Night's Children: Nox Noctis
by Nymbis
Summary: Book 2. Riley’s nightmares of fire are rapidly becoming worse. She can’t sleep, and is on the constant edge. She has suspicions that someone is out to get her, and she maybe right. But what happens when the only one who can help is a Follower? FINISHED!
1. Prolog: Orpheus and Eurydice

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_Night's Children: Nox Noctis_

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**By: **Nymbis

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**Summary: **Riley's nightmares of fire are rapidly becoming worse. She can't sleep, and is on the constant edge. She has suspicions that someone is out to get her, and she very well maybe right. But what happens when the only one who can help her is a Follower himself?

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**Author's Note: **Book Two! Yay! I realize that the ending to _Night's Children: Aliena Misericordia _may have been too abrupt, but to be honest, I was tired of writing it. This one will explain what happens between the two books eventually, so I'm just asking for a little patience : ) thank you again to all the lovely reviewers!

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**Prologue: **Orpheus and Eurydice.

_Long ago, there was a brilliant musician by the name of Orpheus. Stated to be the son of the Muse of Epics, Calliope, he was the greatest mortal musician of all time. One note from his lyre, or one sung song, and animals would come to him, mountains would move, and savage beasts would sleep. He was revered and adored by all._

_One day, Orpheus met and fell in love with a beautiful Dryad, or wood, nymph by the name of Eurydice. Eurydice was also a loved being, and it seemed almost natural that the two were destined for each other._

_There were many obstacles in the pair's way however, foremost was that Eurydice's father found Orpheus to be unworthy of his daughter. He sent him with the near impossible task to get the fleece of the golden ram, to prove his ability._

_However, the fleece was guarded by one of the fiercest dragons, one that had killed many men before._

_Yet, Orpheus was able to use his ability of song to lull the monster to sleep, and removed the fleece while it rested._

_Upon his return with the fleece, Orpheus and Eurydice were married, but it didn't necessarily equal a happy ending._

_While out for a walk in the woods, Eurydice met and was pursued by a terrible and lustful demi-god. Trying to escape from him, she accidentally trod on a snake that bit and poisoned her, and she was immediately cast into the Underworld of Hades._

_Orpheus was devastated. His heart had broken, but he solemnly swore to rescue his love from the perils of Hades. He slowly made his way to the entrance of the Underworld, where he passed the guardians with ease. With the three-headed beast Cerebrus, that protected the entrance, he once again used the power of his voice to bring it sleep. Once he had entered the Underworld, he sought an audience with its rulers, King Hades, and Queen Persephone._

_Both the leaders, hard and cold towards any feeling, were unmoved by his first pleas to bring back Eurydice. It had not been the first time that a lover had wanted his wife back, and both saw no need to return Eurydice's soul, or shade as it was called, back to the mortal world._

_But Orpheus was persistent, and he began to sing a heart-felt song about the love Eurydice and he had shared._

_The raw emotion that he had placed into his song broke the two of them, and they wept for and pitied Orpheus. Even Persephone, hardened by her kidnapping from the world of light, did not protest as a single tear fell down her face._

_Seeing that his motives were pure, King Hades made a deal with Orpheus. He promised him that he would have the shade of Eurydice follow him up to the surface. If he did not look back at, or speak to her until they reached the world of light, she would became alive again._

_Orpheus readily agreed, and slowly started back to the surface. Eurydice's shade followed him closely and silently, as a shade makes no noise, behind._

_But you see, Orpheus was starting to feel panic. All mortals knew that if one entered the Underworld one way and left, they would not be able to return a second time. He began to fear the Hades had tricked him, and that Eurydice was not truly behind him. The mix of panic and anxiety to see Eurydice again made him turn around to see if she were really behind him._

_Their eyes met for a brief moment before Eurydice disappeared, returning to the Underworld for all eternity._


	2. 1 The Moon's Resplendence

_Night's Children: Nox Noctis_

**AN:** hola, my lovely readers! Sorry this chap took so long to come out, been I had about 10 pages of this story written, when my mom took it in to get fixed with all my knowledge. And since all my stuff was saved on harddrive only, the guy repairing it deleted everything. EVERYTHING! So I was a little annoyed and didn't feel like writing this story for a bit. Sigh.

Anyways, just to let you know, I've decided to be completely unoriginal and use other artist's lyrics for songs. Truth be told, I wanted the stuff to have a certain feel to it, and that's quite frankly not the stuff I can write. So, I figured I would learn from the masters. In this chapter the lyrics are from **AFI's _'This Celluloid Dream'_ **I do not own them.

K, on wit' da story, yo!

Chapter One 

_It had been a mistake to come tonight, _Riley thought bitterly to herself as she tried to make her way to the door of the RockOut. The throngs of dancing teenagers, mostly those from Turney High like herself, made it almost impossible to walk in a straight line, as she got pushed every which way.

Tonight was RockOut's 'Teen Night' and Riley wished she had stayed home instead with her current, and now legal guardian, Jimena. Perhaps read a book, gone to sleep early, or do some of the much-needed makeup work she had to do.

For the whole 2 months Riley had been a Daughter, things had gotten extremely hectic. Her grades were suffering, a once 4.0 student now pleased to get a C on her term paper, and everything was slowly going from bad to worse. It was hard being a part of an ancient prophecy to rid the world of evil such as the Atrox, and even harder to be a fifteen-year-old girl at the time.

She had come here with Imy's constant badgering. She needed to unwind, smell the roses, so she said. It wouldn't, after all, kill them to have a little bit of fun, now would it? Tessa had come along as well, between honing her new gifts as an illusionist, and trying to get her ecstasy and drinking binges under control, she needed a party. And Aria, of course, decided to avoid hanging out with the other Daughters, whom she referred to as 'The freak, the druggie, and the nuisance." When her 'other' friends were watching.

Riley liked Tessa, more so when she was sober. She had an edge, a certain realism that was hard to find in a now over-phony world. She spoke what she meant and didn't talk behind other's backs. If she didn't like you, she'd say so, and wasn't afraid of the consequences. She had made a huge effort to get clean after discovering her destiny, and Riley admired that.

Imy, though, had been having a rough time as well. After discovering Art's true background, she decided to break it off with him. Claiming that she couldn't be with someone if she wasn't sure she could trust them. Art had bit his lip and choked out that he understood, and that he'd wait if that's what it came down to.

None of the Daughters had any contact with the boys who had saved their lives, instead they practically avoided them like the plague, thankful for the intervention, yet not quite willing to place faith in them. It was especially hard for Riley and Imy to steer clear of Trysten, Lance, and Art, because normally their gigs were in the same venues as theirs.

Tonight for instance, Round Table had been playing.

And one look at Trysten playing, made Riley decide to abandon her night of 'fun.' She wasn't a people person, her empathetic powers having a large part of that, and she just knew in her gut that if she stayed things would get worse. At the moment, all she wanted to do was go home, read, or maybe work out a new song on her guitar.

But of course, two feet away from the door, her arm was grabbed by Imy.

"What's the rush Riley?" She asked easily.

Riley groaned and turned around to face her best friend. Imy, as always, looked like a model out of a magazine. Her dark brown hair was curled in ringlets under a black top hat, and she had on a tight black vinyl shirt with a green plaid skirt, complete with a black tie. Her nose, eyebrow, and now new lip piercing were in place, but instead of frightening people it probably intrigued them more.

"Don't tell me you're chickening out on my one night off," Came a voice behind Imy that Riley recognized to be Tessa's.

Tessa instantly reminded Riley of a female version of Apollo, god of the sun. A short, denim mini was frayed at the ends and had gold painted over it, accentuating Tessa's tan. A white midriff tank top showed a tiny gold stud in her navel. Her long, blonde hair was layered with gold glittered sprinkled in, and her eyelids were showered in gold that shot straight out to her temple. She grinned devilishly.

Riley sighed, "I think I'm going to head home early tonight." She stated quietly.

Imy rolled her eyes, "We've been here twenty minutes."

Riley shrugged, "Well, I feel out of place, or something."

Tessa grinned, "Probably cause you're playing it more than safe with your wardrobe," She said, gesturing to Riley's clothes, "I mean, it's your own thing and that's cool, but you need to stop being so modest."

Riley felt a blush creep up. She was practically the living embodiment of the word conservative. With a simple black tee on and ripped, baggy jeans she didn't exactly scream hot girl in the club. Her cut off black socks served as arm warmers that went from wrist to just short of her elbow.

"Not only that, but after all that convincing I had to do to get you to pierce your bellybutton, you'd better show it off," Imy said sighing, reaching at her pants and pulling them down to hug her hips and exposing a sliver of stomach that revealed a tiny silver hoop.

"I don't know..." Riley trailed off, not really wanting to stay.

"Oh c'mon, give it at least an hour." Replied Tessa.

Imy nodded, "You haven't even danced yet." She paused and looked up at the stage, "And though I hate to admit it, the band is sounding as good as ever."

Riley bit her lip, nodding. It was true, Round Table's rhythms and beat were sounding at least ten times better than before, and they weren't so bad to start off with. The haunting chorus filtered through the air, and before Riley knew it, Tessa had grabbed her hips and was trying to get her to dance in accordance with herself and Imy.

She inwardly groaned. Riley was not a natural dancer. She always felt awkward whenever she moved with a rhythm, desperately afraid of screwing it up. Even more so was the fear of feeling emotions of mockery coming from onlookers. But it a few moments, her tight rigid frame had loosened up some and she was beginning to have some fun.

Over the increasing volume of music, she heard a sound that could only have been Trysten's croon.

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_Just like romantic verses_

_Just like a joyous end_

_Just like a memory it twists me._

_Twisting me!_

_You land as lightly as a new snow_

_Cinematic_

_On to the melting boy_

_And melt away_

_You light as gently, you're so_

_Cinematic _

_Bathed in your radiance, I melt._

The tone in which he sang was full of remorse, and she briefly wondered if even those without empathy could feel it. She paused dancing and turned to look up at the stage, where for the moment her and Trysten seemed to lock eyes.

_In the glitter in the dark _

_Sunk into velvet_

_Praying this, will never end_

_In the shadow of a star_

_In static pallor _

_I realize I_

_Never began._

The song started to pick up into the chorus again, but Riley was suddenly overcome with waves of insecurity. Whether or not it was from a member of a crowd or from Riley, she couldn't tell, all she knew was that she wanted to leave as soon as possible. There was a feeling of urgency, and of panic swelling in her chest.

She gently slipped away from Imy and Tessa when they were preoccupied talking to some guys from their school and headed out the door.

Once she left the building and noise, she inhaled the sharp cool night air, and looked up to the sky where a partial moon shone down on her. The last thing she saw before she passed out into darkness was the glorious milky light.

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That's it for today

Sry it took so long again

**REVIEWERS**

**Aehart: **Thanks : ) I hope you like it and thanks for reading (pauses) I rock? Oh my, this is rather awesome.

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**XxBrokenLoverxX:** I'm sry : ( my internet died too. Alrighty then, waiting to hear from you!

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**Christine Marguez:** Sry, not exactly soon- I'll be better I swears!

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**Lover of Rain:** me too. I think its such a cool myths, its one of my favorites

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**Angelie:** Hehe, I shall answer nothing.

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**Sleepneeded911:** Thank you! That's a huge compliment. I don't know about the rest of the DOTM readers, but I don't like the directing she's heading in with her knew books (probably from book 6 on....but more noticeably books 11 and 12) and I'm trying to bring back what made the first books so great. If I fail, I fail, but I figured its at least worth a shot, no? Thanks for reading

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**CC: **I'm glad you're liking it!

Toodles

!nym!


	3. 2 Hidden in Midnight Eyes

**Night's Children: Nox Noctis **

Chapter Two 

_The sound of the waves crashed in the distance, and a faint breeze slightly disrupted the otherwise tranquil night on the Los Angeles beach. The air contained more than just a wind, however, and seemed to be filled with a darkness that could choke anyone who was unfortunate enough to cross it._

_And she loved it._

_The faint outline of a red sunset outlined her retreating figure as she walked the shoreline of the luxurious beaches that seemed to only be found in California. The surf crashed and caressed her bare feet, which were unadorned save for a small silver anklet around her left ankle. The muddy sand was crushed between her toes as she slowly headed down the beach towards the piers._

_Once the woman had reached her destination, she quietly walked under the pier, whose support beams were crusted with barnacles and mulch from high tides past. There, she saw what she had been aiming for all along. _

_There was a group of people, all dressed for a special occasion, with tuxedos and evening gowns. Some of them she recognized, some she didn't. But all, she knew, were there to celebrate her triumph._

_Among them, she first noticed her old friend Tymmie, looking extremely handsome in his black, clean-cut tuxedo. His once bleach white hair was now dyed a jet black, and his hard blue-gray eyes were still the intimidating shade they had been over fifteen years ago._

_Also in the crowd were the familiar faces of Yvonne and Kelly, now also an Immortal. All still held their youthful appearances, and looked at her with admiration._

_Tonight was the night she had been waiting for. The night that had been anticipated for over 20 years. _

_The night that she would step into the Cold Fire, and become immortal._

_She nodded to her peers, and slowly made cautious steps towards the ice blue flames that sent frozen patterns around the sanded area. Her eyes searched the crowd frantically, a tiny part of her hoping he would be there. And another tiny part wishing she would never lay eyes on him again. _

_Somewhat saddened, yet somewhat relieved, she noticed he had not come. It made sense, she supposed, Incinti members hardly attended such trivial matters as a lowly _Frigidus Ignis _ceremony. _

_In the background, she vaguely heard Tymmie start the chant._

_The chant of her destiny._

"Lecta." _They whispered._

"Lecta." _They spoke._

"Lecta." _They chanted._

_And, _"Lecta" _They cried._

_She hesitated at the mouth of the roaring flames, and slowly drew a hand over one. She was amazed at the sense of euphoria that flowed through her after the simple motion. The Atrox was calling to her._

_After a few more seconds she stepped into the fire._

_And while most Initiates in her position would have been fixated on the flames that burned away her mortality, the women's gaze was staring at something else. Something far off, that no one else seemed to see. _

_Her mouth gently parted and she called out a single name._

"_Riley."_

"Riley?!" asked a frantic Jimena as she rushed into the spare bedroom she had.

Riley bolted straight up from her bed, panting heavily with cold sweat streaming down her brow. The nightmare. The same vision that had been calling to her for almost two months now, was now stronger than it had ever been before.

Every night the nightmares grew steadily louder, more real, and seemed to be more and more like a calling that an actual dream.

"_Dios!"_ Cried Jimena as she wrapped Riley in a huge hug, "Are you alright?"

Riley's heart was still thumping violently in her chest, but now she took a turn to survey her surroundings. The orange Christmas lights, the posters of sulky new wave bands like The Cure or Echo and the Bunnymen, and the lunar calendar on the far wall marked the area as Riley's room.

The setting seemed strange and foreign to her though, as if the dream were reality and the reality was the dream. A vague remembrance of going to the RockOut came to her and suddenly realization struck, "I passed out again, didn't I?" she whispered hoarsely.

Jimena nodded solemnly, "Each time it keeps getting worse." She muttered, more to herself than to Riley.

Riley groaned and rolled over a little, trying to get a glance at her alarm clock, "What time is it?"

"3 in the morning." Was Jimena's blunt reply, "Riley-"She let it hang in the air.

She gripped her forehead, a dull ache in her left temple, "Yes?" She whispered.

"In your dreams, is," She paused, "Is Cassandra in them?"

Riley swallowed a lump in her throat, "Yes. In everyone of them except the first two I had." She slowly shook her head, "And each time she steps into the Cold Fire and invites me to join her."

Jimena heaved a sigh; "I will ask Selene for guidance." Her dark eyes narrowed dangerously, "These aren't usual dreams Riley."

She sighed, "I know." Her voice was tinged with remorse, as she looked Jimena straight in the eyes. Her dark brown glare was hard and intimidating to some, but to Riley all she felt from the commanding eyes was a worn out sense of concern. She was tired. "Do you think I'll end up like her?" She asked quietly.

Jimena's eyes narrowed, "No." She stated bluntly, "There's too much good and light in you Riley, to ever become your mother."

A moment of silence passed between the two as they each registered their doubts and concerns. Riley tried with stinging realization to avoid the pulsating waves of reservation from Jimena that followed immediately after her statement, and Jimena tried to convince herself that the scared tired pale gray eyes she had just looked at were devoid of the malice which Cassandra's held.

Jimena slowly eased herself off of the foot of Riley's bed, "Get some sleep _chica_," she stated, looking at the clock, "It's two in the morning."

Riley nodded, wanting to put everything off till tomorrow and simply allow herself the joy of sleep, "Good night." She muttered as Jimena went to the doorway."

"Night." She mumbled back as she gently closed the door on her way out.

Riley rolled on her side and turned to face her nightstand. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep without the nightmares, but fatigue was slowly making her eyes heavier. She slowly began to close them, expecting to see the red digital numbers of her clock before she fell into subconscious.

But something about her clock made her jump wide-awake. It was at an angle, turned towards her wall. She swallowed a hard lump in her throat. Moved timepieces were the calling card of a Follower.

Had a Follower been inside her house?

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Bum bum bum.... And that my lovelys, is where I leave you for today!

Sorry such a long time for an update. Between strolling strings, my garage band, gigs, teaching religious education, managing a Christmas play, choir practice, schoolwork, and bowling league, I've been having a hard time trying to find free time. My apologies again.

Btw, those of you that are interested, I'm picking the story _...And Everyone was Dancing _back up again, expect an update within the next week or so.

**Next up: **Riley spends a day on the town with her best friends, and has an unfortunate encounter.

**Reviewers (love y'all )**

**Lover of Rain:** Thank you very much :-)

**Christine Marguez:** Yay! Another seer of truth. Me so happy. I thought I was the only one. Don't worry about the lyrics, they're going to be few and far between ; )

**Sleepneeded911:** oy. Don't get me started on Sons of the Dark. Lol , I'm glad you're liking it. Book 12 had way too much new information in it for my liking. I mean, it was like bam! Here's a huge and relevant plot point that comes into play right...now! Background, what background? Lol sigh.

**Angelie:** lol k I wont. Looking forward to it.

**Shadow Goddess Akhet:** I'm glad you're liking it!

Toodles

!nym!


	4. 3 A Chosen One

**Chapter Three**

The next morning did little to wield the comfort of a fresh new start. A morning where all the problems of yesterday are forgotten, and the only thing on one's mind is the present. Relief and tranquility are what mornings ought to bring, but for Riley, the morning only seemed to be the start of another day in which she had to worry for her sanity.

She had slept little the past night, tossing and turning, afraid that if she opened her eyes, Tymmie or worse, her mother, would be in her room, trying to take her over to the Atrox, an offer she didn't know she had the strength left to refuse. The nightmares plagued her, and she was at a loss of what she needed to do.

The obvious choice would be to take a day off, but she had tried that, and the haunting of her psyche had plagued her still. She hated the constant edge of paranoia that hung over her head like an evil shadow, and despised how she had to peer around every corner she took. She was used to feeling ignored, simple, perhaps even boring, but the disgusting feeling of weakness that clung to her made her shudder.

She had been so convinced she was strong, but now she wasn't as confident.

The second option would be to consult Jimena, yet even she seemed distant. Her answers were vague, and it felt like the possible takeover of evil in Riley was second to some more chaotic matter in her mind. She felt like a last priority, and perhaps she was.

She was gasping at straws now, desperate to find a way to correct her problem, her fear kept threatening to overtake her sanity.

Riley slowly rolled out of her bed, and the first thing she saw was her reflection in the mirror adjacent to it. Her eyes held purple baggies under them, and her features were clenched and gaunt. She looked as if she had seen a thousand miles of bad road, and was forced to walk barefoot for every one of them.

Thankfully, she didn't have to worry about attending school that day, it was a Saturday and that meant she was free to do as she pleased. Jimena basically allowed her to do whatever she wanted during the day, being that Riley wasn't exactly a mistrustful type of child. She was reliable, and both her and Jimena understood that.

Feeling the desirable need to skip a shower, Riley pulled her slightly greasy maroon hair into a disheveled ponytail. Keeping things simple, she threw on a pair of worn, holey jeans and a gray long john shirt with a ripped black tee shirt over it. Her weathered high tops slipped on her feet with ease, and the only thing pushing her for motivation was the unanswerable need to leave the apartment.

She felt like that most days. The irresistible crush of wanting to get up, leave, go wherever she wanted, and come back refreshed. Now with her mother out of the picture, Riley finally had the opportunity to do just that, and was thankful for Jimena's privileges.

She gently crept across the carpeted floor, knowing that Jimena would still be asleep, as it was early morning, and made her way to the kitchen. There, she wrote a note in her chicken scrawl saying she had gone out for a walk and didn't know when she would return, but promised to take the cell phone she and Jimena shared, in case of emergency.

Slipping the silver phone into her back pocket, Riley quickly departed from the apartment and out to the building. There was the slight chill clinging to the air of an early morning, and Riley had to reduce the need to shiver. It wasn't more that of the temperature, but the eerie notion that someone was watching in the dark shadows of the morning. She stole a glance at her watch, which she always kept on, to discover that it was barely six o' clock. She debated silently in the hallway whether or not to go and try to sleep or to just embrace her inner insomnia and grab a cup of coffee at the nearest gas station. With the horrible memory of her nightmare in the recesses of her mind, Riley chose the latter.

Her footsteps hardly made a sound on the carpet, yet her finely attuned ears swore they heard a faint shadow of her steps. She turned abruptly around to discover that nothing was there.

"You're going crazy," She muttered to herself, "Insomnia, paranoia, next I'll be talking to squirrels and other small woodland creatures." But her eyes betrayed her self-doubts, lingering on the area under the flight of stairs that was heavily shadowed.

"_Adiuvo me nunc."_ She whispered, more to calm herself rather than invoke the Goddess's power.

She gently made her way to the exit doorway, and pushed it open. There was a second's delay however, when she thought she heard the sound of a stifled chuckle. She slowly shook her head and walked out the door.

Despite the earliness of the time, Los Angeles still remained one of the most bustling cities in the country. The sounds of people arguing over prices, and the smells of coffee and more exotic teas filled the air with a zesty aroma. Riley inhaled deep the not-quite fresh air that held the slight smell of smog, granted by the heavy pollution of the area.

Nevertheless, Riley was glad to be out of the apartment, and as soon as she had left the building, it felt as if a tremendous burden was lifted off of her.

She stuck her hands in her pockets and slowly walked down the streets. A few cafés and newsstands were open, but other than that, it was almost tranquil. Everything around her seemed to have a pattern.

The only exception would have to be the few extreme party-goers leaving from the clubs that occupied the downtown street, most of them intoxicated.

Feeling suddenly awkward as she noticed a rather large crowd exit _The Shinedown_, a more rowdier club, she was thankful when she saw an open coffee house, not bothering to even look at the name of the building or see who was inside, she trudged in.

The place smelled delicious, with steam coming off that portrayed mocha, Columbian, caramel, Vienna, hazelnut, and chai, Riley's personal favorite. And one look at all the raggedy couches and comfy armchairs convinced her she liked the place. The drapes, a maroon color similar to that of her hair, were parted to reveal the majesty of a Californian sunrise.

Of course, the surveying of her surroundings only took a few seconds to register, and when she realized who the two men arguing in hushed whispers at the front were, she wished she hadn't have come.

Tymmie, who appeared disheveled and was clad entirely in black clothing, was obviously one of the late partiers, yet Trysten, with a barista's puke green apron on, was obviously a worker there. It took a few moments for Riley to recognize Tymmie though, as he had died his hair a shade of jet black and most of his facial piercings were out.

Riley stood, frozen, unsure of what to do. Taking an additional few seconds to decide that it was time to leave, she slowly made her way towards the huge oak doors.

But naturally, Trysten took that moment to look up as she was almost out the door. A look of calm surprise took over his face, and Tymmie followed his gaze.

"Well, well." He snickered, "Hey Riley."

Trysten's face remained expressionless, but Riley could feel his urgency for her to go pulsating. Tymmie's emotions remained guarded, except that she could feel diminishing anger and a sudden bout of playfulness.

Riley felt her own face heating up, flustered at the situation. She wanted to leave, but taking a quick look out of a bay window portrayed an increasing crowd of business men going to their work stations, and thus, too many people to witness if there were a possible battle. Yet here, now noticing the only other audience was an elderly lady drinking a hot chocolate while she read her newspaper, she was at risk for an attack. It was especially dangerous, as she was unsure of what Trysten's motives were.

"I was, um, just leaving." She mumbled, heading for the door.

She could see the smirk on Tymmie's face, even if she wasn't facing him, "Sleep well last night?" he asked coyly.

She stopped dead in her tracks, unsure of what to do, feeling a sudden surge of bravery, she turned, "No, I didn't." Her eyes narrowed, "And I suspect you know why."

"Stop." Spoke Trysten gravely to Tymmie, then turned to Riley, "Riley, I would leave."

Tymmie shrugged nonchalantly as he leaned on a counter, looking smug as ever, "What ever gives you that idea?"

Riley froze rigid, still confused on what would be the best course of action, she looked at Trysten, "Do you know too?"

He nodded grimly, "I'm having nightmares of rather despicable characters as well." He slid a snide look to Tymmie out of the corner of his eyes. He then noticed the singular customer was looking at the three in profound interest, "But right now isn't the time to be discussing it."

Tymmie snorted, "It's the perfect time to discuss it." He looked at the old lady with a hardened stare from his steely gray eyes, and she suddenly picked up her newspaper and chocolate and left the little café.

Riley's uneasiness soon spread to full tension, she was more vulnerable now, that there was no bystanders, and she swallowed a hard lump in her throat, "What do you want with me?" She asked, trying to sound brave and hating the quaky feeling that climbed into her throat.

Tymmie grinned a malicious grin, "You'll see in time, _dea_, but for now, I think I'll keep you guessing." He stood up and began walking towards the doorway Riley stood in front of, as he passed her he leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Sweet dreams Riley." He shot her a lewd looking glance, and made his way out of the café, leaving Trysten and Riley alone.

An uneasy silence passed between Riley and Trysten at Tymmie's departure. Riley, normally cool, calm, and collected felt as if a thousand lakes of fire had passed through her.

"You know what's going on?!" She demanded, her voice dripping acid.

Trysten heaved a sigh, and went to work drying a dish, "Yes." He looked at her with weary eyes, "And no."

"Well, enlighten me." She spat, taking no effort to constrain her annoyance.

He seemed to ignore her for the moment, his eyes fixed on the porcelain plate he had finished cleaning, the sheerness of it reflected in the early morning lights, "What do you want to know?" He asked exasperatedly.

"Everything." She responded.

"You'll have to be a bit more specific," He muttered, coming out from behind the counter and sitting in at a table. Motioning across the table to a chair, he beckoned Riley over. She slowly obliged.

"First of all, what are you, Follower or no?" She kept her pale-eyed stare leveled with his. The piercing blue of his irises intimidated her slightly, but she was sure to keep the feeling hidden, lest it become incriminating.

"I'm not a Follower," He mumbled. His eyes slowly fell on the silver crescent amulet that dangled over her shirt. As if asking permission, his hand outstretched for it and he grabbed it between his fingers. After a few seconds, he let it drop back to its comfortable place. He lifted his hand up to Riley's eyelevel, and sure enough, there were no marks. "If I were, my fingers would be burnt."

She felt inclined to believe him, yet something about the atmosphere was unsettling, "Then what are you?"

"Before I answer that," He said coolly, "I'd like to know a little more about you."

She sighed and leaned back against the chair, "What's there to know? I'm a Daughter, sent to destroy evil, and that's basically it."

He sadly shook his head, "There must be more to it than that, Riley." He murmured, "Otherwise you wouldn't be receiving these dreams." There was a short pause before he continued, "There's something different about you, that separates you from the other Daughters. What is it?"

Riley shrugged, "In all honesty, there isn't. But even if there were, I wouldn't feel exactly comfortable giving you explicit details about the Daughters differences."

Half of his mouth twisted into a lopsided grin, "And why is that?"

"Because I don't even know what side you're on!" She protested, "Would you trust me, given the circumstances? You claim you're not a Follower, yet you know most of them by name, your band's lyrics are obviously Follower related, and your two best friends are _Invitus_."

"First of all," He replied calmly, "_Former Invitus_, also, you seem to be counting out the time we saved all four of you from Followers, including Tymmie."

"Yet you also seemed to have an almost friendly rivalry with him. Even a few moments ago, you were chatting idly." Riley countered.

"We were _not_ chatting." He cut her statement short with harshness, "He's toying with me, trying to get a weakness exploited." He paused, "The nightmares you've been having? Well, they're my nightmares too."

She scrutinized his emotions. All she could feel were waves of sincerity and a hidden undertone of fear. Not fear of Tymmie, but it seemed to be a fear of himself, with a slight bit of self-loathing. She carefully considered her next words, "Then please explain to me why you're receiving the same dreams."

He sighed and placed his head in his hands, "Because of my father." He muttered.

"And why does your father have such a partial role in this?"

His eyes once again locked with hers and she sensed agitation, like a deer caught in the headlights, "He was a Follower. A rather influential Follower at that."

"So you are a Follower." Riley spoke quietly.

"No." He said, "Not yet anyway."

"But if your father-"

Trysten let out a short laugh, "I never knew my father. He died shortly after I was born, and correct me if I'm mistaken, but is not your mother a Follower?"

Riley bit her lip, "Yes."

Trysten gave a curt nod, "Then its unfair to assume I'm a Follower, simply because my father was one."

She nodded, "But why the dreams?"

Trysten shook his head, "For me, its tempting me, trying to drive me to chose the choice I've avoided for five years."

"And what choice is that?" Asked Riley patiently.

"Well Riley, I'm what they call a _Lectus._"

"A chosen one." Mumbled Riley, finally understanding. "Then…"

She felt Trysten's hand close gently over hers on the table, and she looked up at his face as he gravely muttered, "Then it probably means you're a _Lecta._"

**Finished chapter three! Yay! Lol this was a pain in my tookus to write, so I hoped you enjoyed it.**

_Next Up: _With Trysten's revelation in her mind, Riley tries hard to keep the stunning realization away from her fellow Daughters, and more importantly, Jimena.

**Reviewers:**

**Christine Marguez**: ; ) I know I know its too short, for that I apologize. But, the fact that it was simply a dream with almost no discussion comes into play later. I realize that may sound convenient, but you're just gonna have to trust me : - )

**Lover of the Rain:** Lol but the dream was important! Hehe, I hope this is soon enough

**FirstEvil:** Thank you, I'm glad you're liking it

**Decorus Mortis: **Awesome, looking forward to reading it. Haha, the fact that Cassandra's insane is a given, isn't it? : )

**Sleepneeded911:** _grin_ I'm glad you noticed the similarities to Serena and Riley, it shall come into play later. Bum bum bum. Hehe, anyways, book 12 did annoy me for that reason, it felt as if she were cramming two or three books into one. But maybe I just have poor reading comprehension. Anyways, this chap most likely clarifies your questions on the whole _lecta _issue hehe, and all your questions shall be answered in time ; ) gah the stupid maintenance was irritating me too. I had this all ready to update yesterday. Sigh. It was originally 4 pages, but I got so bored I wrote another 4 lol.

Toodles

!Nym!


	5. 4 Distance

**Chapter Four**

Riley was having a hard enough time trying to breathe, let alone trying to contemplate the revelation which had just happened. A _Lecta,_ her? No way. It didn't fit the profile. Riley Zalank was easy-going, shy, and even a vegan. The role of evil chosen one for immortality didn't suit her at all. Then again, the role didn't exactly fit Trysten either, and Riley was sure he wouldn't lie about something of that magnitude.

Yet still, _Lecta_?! The idea was just unfathomable.

Trying to convince herself otherwise, Riley almost ran into someone as she walked, "Sorry." She muttered weakly, looking at the older man whom she had almost run into.

"No problem," He said, his voice seeming oily.

Riley took a moment to survey the man before he continued forward. He was tall, over 6 foot, with black hair that was slicked back behind his ears. His wardrobe was a cotton, black trench coat over a nice-looking business suit, and he appeared the age of her mother. But it was his eyes that made Riley hesitate. They seemed familiar, yet she couldn't place them. It was then that she realized he had to be evaluating her as well.

"Excuse me," He murmured, passing by her and into the café in which she had moments earlier heard the disturbing news.

Shaking her head slowly, Riley continued down the road, knowing the only place she could feel comfortable at the moment was her temporary home.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

When she returned back into the apartment building, the first thing that greeted her was a blast of warm air from the house's heater. It felt soothing on her face, which was slightly cold from the brisk morning's air, and for the moment her anxieties had disappeared.

But, in an instant, they returned again.

She sighed to herself and ran her hand through her hair, "What am I going to do?"

Her sneakers thudded almost silently against the thick carpet of the lobby as she begrudgedly made her way up to Jimena's apartment. She gripped the oak banister as if she were gripping for life itself. She always had problems controlling her power when it came to emitting feelings. She needed to calm down, otherwise Jimena would see right through her, and she didn't know if that could help matters.

_Think of it this way,_ she told herself, _there may not be anything to worry about._ It was true. She wasn't sure if she could place enough faith in Trysten to believe him on a matter as important as this, no matter how sincere he seemed.

She hesitated before reaching out her key and placing it in the lock, trying to compose herself enough for Jimena. Trying to summon feelings of calm and fatigue, to replace the real emotions of anxiety and fear, she carefully walked into the apartment.

Sure enough, Jimena was up, frying bacon and making coffee.

"_Hola,_" She said without looking up from the bacon she was turning, "Enjoy your walk?"

Riley scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, "It was…alright, I s'pose."

"That's good." She mumbled, her back still turned towards Riley, "Didn't get much sleep again, did you?"

Riley sighed and plopped herself into a seat at the kitchen table, "No, I didn't. But then again, its been forever since I've been able to have sweet dreams."

Jimena nodded, and finally turned off the stove and faced Riley, "I'm sorry _chica,_ I truly am."

Riley gave a wane smile, "There's nothing for you to be sorry about, unless its you sending me these nightmares."

Jimena gave a dry chuckle and absent-mindedly wiped her eyeglasses off on her apron, "Wouldn't that be the day."

There was a comfortable silence between the two as Jimena began to pour some steaming black coffee into mugs for the two of them, "There's something I need you girls to do tonight though."

Riley sluggishly looked up at her mentor, "Another warning from Selene?"

Jimena nodded, "There's this new area in town where Followers are suspected of stealing hope from teenagers. Near the new mall they're constructing. I'd like you to go check it out."

Riley rolled her eyes and said under her breath, "Well if it's by a mall, at least Aria will show."

Jimena sent her a disapproving look, but otherwise ignored the comment, somewhat knowing what she said was true. Aria was the most reluctant of all of them, she didn't want to become a part of the group, and thus, she wasn't. "After breakfast, why don't you give them a call?"

"It's a little early, don't you think?" Riley asked hesitantly.

"Nonsense, if they're still asleep past eight, its high-time they woke up." She said, gently blowing the steam off of her mug.

Riley didn't answer, but instead stared blankly into her cup. The liquid was hot, and the steam gently hovered above it. But that wasn't what she was interested in, it was the color of her coffee. A dark black, that seemed to echo the shadows. Was that what her destiny called her to be? Something as foul and dark as a Follower? Was she in fact, her mother?

"Riley?" She heard Jimena ask from the recesses of her mind.

"Hm?" She responded, slightly taken aback from being removed from her thoughts.

"Are you alright? You seem preoccupied." Jimena asked gently, the heat from her cup fogging up her glasses slightly as she brought it to her mouth to sip.

"It's just…" She paused, trying to think of an excuse, "Stress." She concluded, knowing she couldn't full-out lie to her surrogate mother.

Jimena nodded, sympathy coming into effect around her, "I understand. I know how tough it is, trying to fulfill an ancient destiny, and being a teenager."

Riley gave a grim smile, "I just need to rest, I think." But even she knew she wasn't fooling anyone. Her eyes held a grim look to them and her features were drawn together tightly, making her look flushed.

Jimena sat contemplative for a moment, "Perhaps it isn't the best idea for you to go tonight?"

_It's the worst idea, _"It's no big deal. I mean, what good is having powers when you don't do anything with them?"

"If you insist Riley," Jimena said, her voice sounding grave. She took the moment to look at her watch, "Better go call the others, give them time to prepare."

Riley nodded, not really listening, but trying to keep up her appearance. On the inside, her mind was whirling. The mere possibility of her ending up like her mother frightened her. So badly that she couldn't contain herself. Without a word, she left the room and headed towards hers. Her quilted blanket provided a nice comfort as she threw herself upon her bed. Rolling over on her back, she stared blankly at her hands, rough with calluses from guitar, with short fingernails and a small scratch she had received when she got into the scuffle with the Followers.

What was she?

Sighing, she once more rolled over to reach the telephone on the side of her bed, dialing Imy's phone number from memory; she waited patiently as the phone rang. On about the seventh or so ring, it was picked up.

"Hello?" A groggy voice that undoubtedly belonged to Imy answered.

"Hey, Imy. It's Riley," She said, trying to sound cool, calm, and collected.

"Oh. Hey."

Riley almost chuckled, "I didn't wake you up did I?"

"No, no. Of course not." She paused, "Jerk."

"Anyways, just called to let you know not to use your special abilities today." She said, her voice flat and quiet, almost normal.

"Why not?" Came Imy over the receiver, starting to perk up.

"Jimena wants us to check out this new hotspot for Followers." Riley said.

"This couldn't have waited until…oh, I don't know… after dawn?!" She said, her voice edged with mock annoyance.

"Imy, it's eight o' clock in the morning."

"Dawn."

Riley rolled her eyes, "I've been up since fourish."

"Well, no offense Riley, but some of us aren't insomniacs." Imy paused, "Are you ok?"

"What do you mean?" She asked, feigning confusion.

"You know what I mean. Riley, you passed out last night. You're not sleeping, and you just seem so…" She trailed off.

"Seem so what?" Demanded Riley, trying not to become angry.

"Distant." Imy sighed, "Ever since we've become goddesses, we haven't talked or hung out as much. I mean, come on, Ry, we don't even have band practice anymore." She paused, seeming almost sad, "The band used to be our life."

Riley felt a tiny tinge of remorse, "I know. Maybe, after tonight, we'll take a break for awhile. Lord knows its Tessa and Aria's turn."

Imy laughed, "Tessa, probably. Aria, fat chance."

"Which reminds me, should you call her, or should I?" She asked grudgingly.

"Well, no offense Riley, but I think she seems to hate me less than you." Came Imy's voice over the phone.

"That one's a given." Muttered Riley. "So if you could call Tessa and her, that'd be great."

She heard Imy yawn over the phone, "Alright. Are you sure you're ok, though?"

"Not really." She murmured, "I'll get over it." She said louder.

"Ok, hey, how about we hang out later this afternoon?" She asked, implying she also felt lousy.

Riley knew she wouldn't be able to keep her secret long from Imy, but at the same time, she needed someone to talk to, "That'll be cool."

"Awesome, I'll swing by later."

"Imy?"

"Ya, Ry?"

"No teleporting."

She sighed, in teasing frustration, "Whatever you say, _mom._"

Riley laughed, "Your mom would let you teleport."

"Ya, she would. But I gotta go and face this wonderful day." She said.

"Talk to you later Imy." Riley departed.

"Bye." She said before clicking off the receiver.

After she had hung up the phone, Riley convinced herself she also needed to get ready to face the day. Taking a shower, she then pulled on the same clothes. The feel of grime leaving made her feel slightly better, and she took a long look in the mirror.

The girl who looked back was plain, wet hair hung in tangles around her head, her eyes held the look of intense sorrow or sadness, and there was a rather large zit forming on the corner of her mouth.

A _Lecta, _her?

No way.

She sighed and looked away from the mirror, there was a second's hesitation before her head turned quickly back to it, as if she had seen something. When she realized that the reflection staring back at her was only of her, she turned away.

"You're crazy," She muttered to herself, "First nightmares, and then you think you see shadows moving in the corner of your eye." There was a pause, as she tried to convince herself otherwise. She let out a dry chuckle, "Completely crazy." She spoke without much conviction as she made her way out of her room.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

**End of chapter!**

**Next up: **Riley and Imy take an afternoon off, and then have a confrontation that none of the Daughters have had before

**Reviewers:**

**Lover of Rain:** Thank you very much. Hope you enjoy the chap!

**Decorus Mortis:** Ah…. I shall try and answer without giving too much away. Riley and Trysten's families are similar, but they are not the same. Hehe, I never mentioned it was Stanton, and even if it was, it is cited in book 5 that top ranking Regulators could destroy even Immortals, also, by pushing an Immortal into the Cold Fire, it strips them of their Immortality… not that its Stanton or anything… or is it? Lol. I hope I somewhat helped without ruining a plotline. : - )

**Shadow Goddess Akhet:** Lol, hate to keep you wondering, but sadly, I do what I must.

Toodles

!nym!


	6. 5 Cars Start to Crash

**Chapter Five: Cars Start to Crash **

By the time that Imy was about to arrive, all thoughts and fears of becoming a _Lecta_ made there way to the back of Riley's mind. Mainly through self-fooling and the urge to forget, all ponderings of terror were pushed back into the recesses of her vacant musings.

The apartment was all hers at the moment, Jimena having just left for her work, being a secretary at a growing law firm.

And then that moment was gone, as there was a loud thudding on the door. There was a pause, and then the intense thudding continued. _Imy._ Mumbled Riley to herself, as she slowly went over and opened the door. Sure enough, Imy was standing there, looking impatient as ever.

"Here's a thought, _open_ the door when people _knock._" She huffed.

A tiny smile appeared on Riley's features, Imy hated having to wait on others to grant her entrance since gaining her teleportation powers, "We have neighbors you know." She mumbled.

"I bet. Neighbors who would _answer _the door if someone was _knocking_." She said, inviting herself in as Riley gently closed the door behind her.

"More like violently pummeling." She quipped. "In which case, they would call the cops."

Imy kicked off her tall combat boots at the door and leaned against one of the kitchenette's counters. "So what do you want to do?" She asked lazily.

Riley shrugged, "Anything besides Daughter stuff."

Imy beamed; pulling into her paramilitary duffel bag she normally carried with her and pulled out her CD case and a notebook, "Just what I was thinking." She said grinning, "Jimena won't mind horribly if you were to leave for a couple hours, would she?"

"Probably not, so long as I let her know I won't be in, and I don't use my powers until tonight." Replied Riley.

"Good." Stated Imy matter-of-factly, "In which case, grab your guitar, because we're going to have band practice."

Riley stared at her in amazement, "And how on _Earth_ did you get Twiggy to wake from his eternal slumber?"

She smirked, "I just kept calling, and calling, and calling-"

"I get the point." Riley cut her off before she could continue her soon-to-be annoying rant, "Is it at Jake's?" It was some unwritten law that band practice was always at the drummer's home. It didn't hurt that Jake's parents owned one of the largest homes in the area; his dad was a hotshot lawyer.

"Naturally." She responded.

There was a shrill honk from outside the apartment building, and Imy quickly went over to the window, "And look!" she exclaimed, "There's our ride."

Riley causally strolled to the window, sure enough, outside was Twiggy's beat to hell '78 Chevy. She sighed, "Let me write a note." She proceeded to the counter where she flipped the note of the fridge from the morning over and scribbled down Jake's address and phone number.

When she turned around, Imy had miraculously conjured her guitar and was by the door, ready to go.

Riley shook her head disapprovingly, "This is what I mean."

"What?" Pouted Imy.

"Using your powers like that. It would've taken a mini-second to _walk_ to my room and then to the door." She stated, eerily sounding like a reproachful high school principal.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Said Imy, tossing Riley's case at her.

Riley's heart skipped a few beats when she realized that Imy had just tossed her 'precious.' She caught it, barely, and heaved a huge sigh of agitation, "Please, never do that again."

Imy let loose a hearty laugh, "Oh, lighten up Ri-ster." She said, heading out the door where the infinite sound of Twiggy's car blaring echoed loudly.

She groaned and followed her best friend out the door.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Twiggy's car gave a new definition to the word 'heap.' The back of the car, littered with vintage metal band stickers, had its rear bumper rotting off due to rust and most likely reckless driving. Both of his side mirrors were cracked, the roll windows were jammed at half way, the windshield had bird poop all over it, and the speedometer didn't work.

And that was just the outside.

Nimbly crawling over the folded passenger's seat, Riley crammed herself and her guitar in the back, to the side of Twiggy's bass case. Almost in the fetal position, she resisted the urge to comment dryly on all the food wrappers in the back. Now, she wasn't anal when it came to cleaning, but too much was too much.

Imy slid in after her, unfolding the seat and chirping a spirited greeting to the agitated and irritable Twiggy.

Twiggy was the oldest in the band, at eighteen. His long, thick, and gnarled dread locks were pulled back in a greasy ponytail. His ratty tee-shirt may have been white once, but was now a off-gray color. Ripped jeans, four-day stubble, mud-splattered boots, and the half-smoked cigarette between his teeth seemed to tie together all the things that made Twiggy, well, Twiggy.

"Practice has to absolutely be at dawn?" He mumbled, annoyed.

Imy scrunched her nose, "Can you put that thing out?"

Twiggy rolled his eyes as he backed out of his parking spot, "Don't tell me you're going to be one of those 'second-hand smoke kills' kinda people."

"No, that'll happen before you become one of those 'Hey let's shower once a month' kinda people." She retorted, "It stinks. Put it out."

He growled something inaudible to Riley but nevertheless flicked the cigarette on the dashboard, "Happy?"

"Has anyone informed you that you're extremely unpleasant?" She replied

"Lots of times."

"Hmph, small wonder."

"Hey Riley," He said, deliberately ignoring Imy, "Long time no see."

"Ya." She whispered, not really sure what to say.

"So what's the deal with you two? We haven't had a real practice in…" He tried to calculate his head, but apparently gave up, "Forever."

Imy rolled her eyes and kicked her feet up on the dashboard, "We've been busy."

"With what?"

"None of your business."

"You're not singing with that one band, are you? Knight's Table or whatever the hell they call themselves." He said, his mud-brown eyes narrowed.

"Nope." Interjected Riley, knowing that Imy would most likely blow up at the mention of Round Table.

Twiggy and Imy seemed to have a love-hate relationship. They would constantly bicker, or insult one another, but at the same time neither of them took the other seriously. At least, not seriously enough to cause problems.

Twiggy seemed to take Riley's word for truth, "Then what have you been doing?" He asked, as he turned onto another boulevard.

"I've been suffering at school," Riley replied awkwardly. It was true, she was having a hard time, between all the late nights and her recent fainting spells.

Twiggy looked like he was about to say something, but instead he slammed the breaks of his car and muttered, "Oh shit!"

A lot happened in that short moment. First, a low riding black sports car had cut them off at the intersection, turning left in the lane at the last possible moment. As Twiggy was speeding, when he hit the brakes the entire car rocketed forward. However, the car didn't slow enough in time, so it hit head-on with a nearby telephone pole.

After the collision, everything seemed to slow. Riley, wearing a seatbelt, was buried under all the band equipment that had been jutted out of its place, she did, however, have enough time to see Twiggy's head jerk forward and hit the dashboard. Hard.

Imy, was lucky she had her gift. Not wearing a seatbelt, the impact had caused her to launch forward, almost flying out of the windshield. Sheer instinct saved her, teleporting at the last possible moment and landing on the sidewalk outside. Instead of having a horribly marred corpse, she suffered a few scrapes.

Riley scrambled to get out of the various amplifiers, cables, and cases that she was tangled in. A sharp jolt of pain rushed up and down her leg as she realized that she had caught a rather sharp corner of one of the amps. Enraged and not thinking coherently, she kicked it off and shoved everything off of her.

She paused a moment as she sensed a fleeting emotion of sadistic glee as the black car sped away. She had enough resolve left to try and see who was driving or get a possible license plate number. She didn't recognize the driver of the car, but as it turned she saw the all too familiar countenance of someone close to her.

Her mother.

The scene around her vanished, and all she saw was the wickedly smiling figure of the one she loved in this world the most. All the worried bystanders, now dialing on their cell phones for an ambulance, or the ones trying to help Imy and Twiggy, were forgotten.

Her mother had tried to kill her.

The realization dawned on her at that moment. The next time that her mother saw her, she would not hold back.

Would Riley?

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

**End o' chapter! **

**Sorry this took so long, and is on the short side, I was having writers block I suppose. Regular updates are coming back again .**

_Next Up:_ The aftermath of the car crash, and the meeting at the mall.

**Reviewers:**

**Decorus Mortis:** lol, I wasn't aiming for her to be like Serena, but in some ways I suppose that she is. Actually, Riley's personality is the one I identify with most as well, I'm kind of like the shy, occasionally out of place pacifist. Which is part of her persona. Lol I tried to get all types from the people I see around me. Imy's character is actually based on one of my close friends. She's naturally obnoxious like that ;) lol. So I'm glad that the characters identify with people : ) makes my day.

**Shadow Goddess Akhet:** Lol, I guess I'm really just pure evil, making you wait this long lol. Thanks for reading

**Christine Marquez: **Hehe, good to hear I'm improving lol. Thanks for reading

**Lover of Rain:** Well, ok, but only since you asked so nicely.

**Sleepneeded911:** I love your reviews. Nice and long : ). I am also glad that she knows too, it makes it much easier to write, Serena and Stanton do play a part in my story, and they're history will be coming up in either this book, or around the fifth one. (I have about 12 books planned lol, go me) Stanton, however, will be a huge part in the plot of this book, so, er, stay tuned lol. Tymmie is probably my favorite character of the canon DOTM, so yep, he's a rather influential part of the plot as well. He's definitely going to be making more appearances as the story goes on. Hmm…. Lol not gonna comment of the Serena theories… I don't believe I've ever heard of One Tree Hill, what's it about? Don't worry about your replies being so long, I enjoy long ones, they're fun to read.

**Elephantsrocmysox**: Thanks for all your reviews! Yep, Riley and Trysten are both chosen ones, why, well, cuz! Lol. Ooo…. Now that you say that, I almost wish I _had_ made him a Regulator, that would've been fun, eh? Yep, poor Riley, going crazy. In response to Orpheus and Eurydice, I've read two versions that mention he looks back to make sure she's following him. Since Greek Mythology has tons of different interpretations, its possible that there is another one where he sees the light, and that that's the right one. But I'm basing mine off of a book I've had for years, so it may or may not be the right version. Thanks for reading! (And I've decided I'm going to name my chaps too : ) )

**The demon goddess:** Lol, chapter at last! Stanton…well…Stanton…eh….um…. I'll let you read it and find out lol. Can't wait to read the Haggis fic!

Toodles

!nym!


	7. 6 Twiggy's Guardian Angel

**Chapter Six: Twiggy's Guardian Angel**

The white and sterile halls of the emergency wing seemed endless and imposing, Riley thought as she stared blankly down them. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she had a rigid posture. Her eyes were drying from the lack of blinking, but she numbly glared ahead anyways. She was still, silent, and resolute. Her mind kept stewing over the few random images.

_Twiggy looking annoyed at Imy as the two bickered._

_Twiggy's head hitting the dashboard._

_Imy flying out the windshield._

_Imy teleporting, then landing on the hard asphalt._

_Riley looking just in time to see the car pull away._

_Her mother's malicious laughter._

Her glazed over eyes suddenly snapped to attention, blinking rapidly to replace the moisture lost. She took a moment or two to gaze at her surroundings.

Across from her, a mother sat with her five year old son, who was absently playing with a few of the waiting room's toys and puzzles. The woman, as if sensing Riley's stare, jerked, and met Riley's eyes with cool composure. Underneath the façade, however, Riley could feel the anxiety and fear that was flowing through her.

_Relax._ She channeled to her, _it will be fine._ She closed her eyes and willed a feeble wave of hope and endurance towards the poor woman who seemed to sag slightly in her seat when it hit her. Her eyes looked upon Riley with fear, and she suddenly took her son by the hand and sat at the opposite end of the room.

She slowly shook her head. The entire prospect of being a Daughter had brought her nothing but misery. It had ruined everything. Her school work, her family, her life, her band-

Her friends.

All simple casualties of the mind-numbing horrific clandestine war that was upon her. It wasn't fair, no teenager should have to deal with this type of onslaught. And what made it worse was that she knew she was just getting started. She had only been a Daughter for two months, there was still two years left until she could finish.

She swallowed a hard lump in her throat. And what exactly happened when she finished? What could she do? Forget everything that had happened to her? Unlikely. Her entire life had been uprooted. Whereas Imy, Aria, or even Tessa could have the facts of their lives distorted, Riley would have to cope with an entire new identity. Her family had unraveled. What would happen if Jimena got sick of her?

When she saw the dark streak within her that she had inherited from her mother, what would she do? Kick her out? Have her fend for herself?

She had done that her entire life.

The situation was hopeless, even if she did end up choosing to become a guardian spirit, it only meant she was stuck in this war against the Atrox that she hadn't wanted to be a part of in the first place.

Sighing, as she felt hot tears beginning to sting her eyes at the utter hopelessness of it all, she cradled her head between her hands and tried to compose herself.

Twiggy and Imy hadn't come back after they had been rushed in on stretchers.

And about a half hour earlier, a surgeon had come out from working with Twiggy. All Riley could do was nod numbly as he tried to explain to her that Twiggy was in a coma and had severe hemorrhaging in his brain. She wasn't a medical expert, but even she didn't need to read the doctor's emotions to discover that Twiggy was in bad shape. Really bad shape.

Imy, though, was faring much better. The doctor had predicted a dislocated shoulder and perhaps a few bruised ribs. He was amazed at the fact that a girl could be thrown out of a car and hit the ground at such a velocity and not be in a body cast. Her powers had saved her, and she was lucky to be breathing.

Riley's own injuries were pale in comparison. The cut in her leg stitched up in moments, and a small abrasion on her forehead treated with rubbing alcohol.

But the physical hurts were nothing next to the psychological evaluations she was doing to herself. Her mother had tried to kill her. Kill her. The phrase kept re-circulating in her mind. And even though it was not apparent now, she knew deep down inside of her something had snapped, something that should have remained hidden.

_Her mother's malicious laughter._

Yet the fact remained that Twiggy was in need of dire help. Her mind was still on the verge of panic, but she knew she had to make the phone call she was dreading to make.

Aria.

She hesitantly walked over to the services counter, clutching her arm and taking deep breaths. Her powers were out of control, and she was picking up all the negativity in the hospital. Normally she was the emotional rock, but the strain of her powers combined with the fact that two of her closest friends were on operating tables was beginning to drill into that stone. She was having an intense time trying to make syllables come out of her mouth.

"Phone?" she rasped shakily.

When the receptionist gave her a confused look, she tried again.

"Can I use the phone?" She muttered, hating how her voice cracked at the end of the question.

The receptionist, a lady Riley knew to be Rhonda by her nametag, handed her the phone, "Here you go honey. Dial two nines."

Riley could only manage a partial nod as she clumsily redialed the digits from memory, her heart thudded as she heard each individual ring.

_Ring._

_Ring._

_Ring._

The tension was building and she felt she was going to start hysterically screaming if someone didn't answer.

"_Hello?"_ came a chirpy answer.

Riley took a deep sigh, only now considering what she'd say.

"_Hello_?" came the chirp again, only this time more hesitant.

"Hi." Whispered Riley meekly, she tried once again to swallow the feeling of bile creeping up her throat, "Aria?"

The voice was now distinctly less chirpy, and more concerned, _"No, this is her mother… Is something wrong?"_

Riley ignored her, trying to get her voice to stabilize so she could talk to Aria, "May I please speak to Aria?"

There was a long pause on the other end.

"Hello?"

"_Uhm, yes, hold on-"_ Came the voice of the mom.

She then heard the phone moved around and a few hushed whispers.

"_This is Aria,"_ Spoke a crisp voice that seemed slightly worried.

"Aria? Hi this is Riley."

The tone of concern dropped suddenly, _"Oh. Hi. Whatever it is, I can't make it, I have other plans."_

Riley was too upset to be annoyed or angry with the response, "Its not Daughter stuff. Well, not fully." She inhaled, "Look, I know you and I don't exactly get along, but…" She tried to find the correct wording, "Twiggy and Imy are in the hospital. I need your help."

There was a moment's pause on the other end of the phone, _"What happened?"_

Riley's hands were violently shaking, and she inhaled sharply, "A car crash. Imy's going to fine. But Twiggy-" She felt her throat closing up and a stinging sensation in her eyes. She would not, could not cry on the phone with Aria. She was strong, not weak, "But Twiggy might not make it."

Aria was silent for a few moments, _"I'll be right there."_

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Aria had arrived quickly for a person with such resentment for being a Daughter, Riley thought bitterly as she saw her enter through the automatic doors.

She took no notice of her arrival, however, for at the moment she was totally engrossed in staring at her hands. Studying each individual crease, each budding hangnail, each callous. _The_ _hands_ _of_ _a_ _Goddess_. She thought with a deadpan sincerity. So preoccupied was she at the study of her hands, that she didn't hear Aria when she approached her.

"Are you listening to me?" She heard snapped.

She slowly raised her head to discover that Aria was practically hovering over her. Her face twisted in impatience.

Riley murmured, "Come again?"

"Where's Twinny?" She stated, her brash tone cast aside as she stared at the defeated expression of Riley's eyes.

She felt guilty about it, but until now, Aria had thought Riley to be nothing but some little wind-up toy for this so called 'destiny.' A robot, with no personality, feelings, or concerns about the people around her. Perhaps it was because she was an outsider, or perhaps it was because she simply irritated Aria with her stony silence, but she had thought her to be an incredibly impressionable soldier who didn't care about anything or anyone, save this stupid war. Yet when she saw her sigh and the slumped posture, and when she uncovered that tiny crack of pain, Aria understood and knew everything in that small instant. Riley hated this war as much as Aria did, maybe more. And Riley was now hurting in a very human way.

She bit her lower lip and kneeled down beside where Riley was sitting, "Are you okay?" She whispered, feeling awkward.

Riley, who had been fighting so hard to keep her emotions bottled, lest they became incriminating, allowed a tiny tear to leak, "It was my mom." She gasped, "My mom."

"Your mom?" Asked Aria, confused.

"My mom… she tried to-" at this, Riley's long-lasting reserve brook down and she was weeping uncontrollably, "She tried to kill me! Me and my friends!" She glanced down and fingered her moon pendant, "Because of this!" She cried, ripping it off and throwing it on the floor, "Because of that stupid necklace!" She held her head in her hands once again and heaved huge sobs, "She's my mom." She spoke softly bitterly.

Aria gently rubbed against her back, trying as best as she could to comfort her, "It's okay," She murmured, "It's alright."

The only response she got was Riley's head shaking slowly. She allowed her face to come into view as her hands cradled her chin instead, "It's not okay." She grumbled, her voice taking a sinister look to it, "It will _never_ be okay."

Aria deadlocked eyes with her reluctant goddess-in-arms, "What your mother did was wrong." She said, for once feeling that she had to take control, "You can't change that." She paused, ensuring that Riley was listening to her. She was. "But you _can_ change what the outcome will be. I need you to get it together, and I need you to tell me where Twinny is before it's too late."

Riley didn't correct the name, but nodded mutely, as she used the heel of her hand to wipe away her tears, she sniffled, "I can take you to him."

The pair were walking down the isolated hallways as Riley searched for the room they were searching for. The doctor had said that he was in number 35, but that was clear on the other side of the wing. The two walked in an awkward silence.

"I'm sorry," Riley said quietly.

Aria raised an eyebrow, "What for?"

"For unloading on you back there. I'm sure you didn't need it." She said, not daring to look at her as she focused on her boots walking on the ground.

"It wasn't a problem." She stated bluntly. There was another awkward pause before she said, "I'm sorry too. About being such a pain about this Goddess stuff." She laughed, "Believe it or not, I thought _I _was the only one who hated it."

"No." Spoke Riley, her voice getting that edge that made Aria uneasy, "It's taken everything from me." She said so softly that Aria wasn't even sure she heard it correctly.

Aria didn't need to say it, but she knew from that point on that she would stop hating Riley.

The two approached Twiggy's room after a silent, yet oddly enough, now comfortable walk down four more halls.

Riley's eyes darted back and forth along the corridors as she grasped the doorknob, "We'll have to be fast." She said, stating the obvious.

Aria simply nodded and followed her into the hospital room.

Despite what the doctor had said, Riley still felt her stomach give a lurch when she saw Twiggy lying motionless on the hospital bed. Tubes and hooks were all over him, and a heart and brain monitor was adjacent to his bed.

She glanced over at Aria, who was paling in terror, "Riley," She muttered, "I don't know if I can do it."

Riley bit her lip, "Just try. Please?"

Aria nodded, and hesitantly approached the bed. Her thoughts raced back and forth between the three times she had ever summoned up enough courage to heal. Her brother, Imy, and Tessa. And, she though grimly, both of those times she had a small part of their pain reflected upon her. Her brother's burns left an ache, and giving consciousness to both Imy and Tessa had left her with a migraine. But this, this was big. Huge. She didn't know what the repercussions would be.

Her feet thudded slowly across the floor and she stood next to the bed. In her mind's eye, she realized how interesting the two of them, Twiggy and herself, must look. Twiggy, lying comatose, and Aria standing over him like a loved one saying goodbye. Except she wouldn't let him down. With one last furtive glance at Riley, she cracked her knuckles and spread her hands over Twiggy's rather greasy head.

For a moment, nothing happened, and Aria became increasingly worried. Noticing the irony that when she wanted her powers she didn't have them, she tried again. This time, her efforts were rewarded when the sky blue light was pulsating under her fingers. Whispering the silent Latin prayer, she closed her eyes, and plunged in.

Twiggy's mind was chaos. There were layers and layers of pain and hurt everywhere. Aria was beginning to wonder if trying to heal Twiggy was the best idea, she had no medical training, and trying to heal this miss would be like trying to finish a million piece jigsaw puzzle with knowing what the picture was. It was unbearable just to look at it.

Just when she was about to give up, her inner vision depicted what looked like a gray fog or mist, instead of being eerie, it was comforting. She knew instantly that this was Riley, trying to offer what little help she could.

She began to slowly unweave the threads, hoping that a wrong movement wouldn't be the one that would end Twiggy's life. As soon as she did that, she sighed, and was about to give up, but the little wisps of gray urged her to continue. To finish the job and to save him.

She nodded, not knowing whom to, but all the same she continued. Within a few more moments, there were no more entanglements. While not everything was fixed perfectly, she had done what she could and she felt positive that it would be able to heal itself. Getting the gist, Riley withdrew her powers, and she was thrust back into her physical self.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Riley found herself having trouble breathing when Twiggy woke up.

It was not something huge or climatic, he simply opened his eyes for a moment, glanced at Aria, and went back to sleep. There was no heaving gasp, or arching of the back like you expected when someone awoken from a coma. It was simple.

But that didn't undermine the miracle that Aria had just conjured.

After Riley had withdrawn her power from Aria, she rushed over to her side. Aria's eyes had snapped open the moment after breaking the bond with Twiggy, and her face was contorted in a silent scream.

Riley grabbed her arm and helped her sit in a chair. "How're you doing?" She spoke gently.

"Not as bad as I thought," She responded dryly, "My head's killing me." There was a pause, "How long was I?"

Riley glanced down at her watch, "An hour."

"It seemed like only a couple of minutes."

There was another moment of silence as the two of them listened to Twiggy's now regular breathing. "That was a pretty amazing thing you did." Came Riley.

"Yah." She replied, still looking at the figure on the bed.

"So he's going to be ok?"

"Yah."

"Are you?"

Aria looked up at Riley was gazing at her with almost motherly concern, "Yes, I'm fine." She stared at her hands, "So these are what the hands of a Goddess look like."

Riley let out a chuckle devoid of any laughter.

"What's so funny?" Demanded Aria.

"Believe it or not, when you first arrived, I was thinking the same thing." She said, there was yet another moment of silence, "Imy's in room 23."

"I can't-" Objected Aria.

But Riley cut her off, raising her hand, "I'm not asking you to heal her. I was just wondering if you could tell her that Twigs over here is going to be fine."

Aria nodded confused, "Yes, I can, but why cant you?"

Riley shook her head and moved towards the door, "Because I'm not going to be around."

Now Aria was in total oblivion, "What?"

Riley's hand gripped the cold doorknob and she stood facing the door, "I've got a score to settle." She said in earnest, and walked out the door, while all Aria could do was stare in bewilderment at her retreating figure.

_Twiggy could've died. _Thought Riley with bitterness_, If not for Aria, he would have._

Yes, her and her mother were going to have a nice, long, chat.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

How was that for a chapter, eh? That's a good chunk longer than the others, hope you enjoy it!

_Next Up:_ Riley searches for her mother, only to receive help in the most unlikely of places. Naturally, a dislocated shoulder isn't going to stop Imy, as she tries to track down the driver of the car.

**Reviews:**

**Shadow Goddess Akhet:** You want to know the point to the Orpheus story?

Then I shall tell you

In a couple chapters

Bwawuawhauwhuawhuwahwa. Bwa. I'm evil.

**Elephantsrocmysox:** Aw poo. Lol I wanted to read that version :( oh well, thanks for trying though. I'm glad you're liking the story!

**Sleepneeded911**: Sorry I kept your anxiety building :(. Lol maybe good ole Cassie wants to kill Riley, maybe not lol I'll let you guess : ), yep so far I have summaries and plot lines for twelve books, but whether or not I write them remains to be seen, ya know how stuff goes, but I'm going to try my damnedest. Tymmie's my favorite character actually, so I was aiming to have him play a bigger role. Right now he's just the stereotypical villain, but I'm going to have more looksies into his actual character and background. Nope, never heard about it, I guess I'll have to check it out. Nope, sadly I don't know when book 13 is coming out, but if it makes you feel better harry potter number 6 comes out July 15. hope the update was soon enough ;)

**Decorus Mortis: **Yes, Cassandra's quite unpleasant when she hasn't had her coffee. ;)

Toodles

!nym!


	8. 7 Two Teams part one

Chapter Seven: Two Teams 

_Part One:_ Repercussions and Punishment

**AN: **This chap is going to be divided into two parts. This first one deals with Imy and Aria.

Riley didn't look back as she stepped out of the room. She slowly walked down the hall, her sneakers squeaking slightly against the heavily polished floor. Her face was as hard as stone, and her fingers were clenched in a fist, but she continued nevertheless, determined to get out of the place before the negative emotions and stress crashed down on her. She was in such a hurry to leave the place that she had entirely forgotten about the small silver pendant that she had earlier tossed on the waiting room floor.

As soon as she had exited the building, Riley absently felt the back of her jeans for the small silver phone she had always kept with her. Riley wanted vengeance, yes, even more so after seeing Twiggy lying helpless, but she wasn't stupid.

She would need backup if she were to confront her mother, with the possibility of facing Tymmie with his cronies. Who knew, she still hadn't counted Trysten entirely out of the running for being corrupt and evil, he could pose a threat. So getting another with power to accompany her would be a necessity.

She couldn't go with Imy, who would have been her first choice, because she was injured. Aria was out of the running as well, Riley felt as if she had asked too much of her already.

That left one other.

Dialing the phone number from memory, Riley spoke quietly and directly into the phone, "Hello, may I speak with Tessa?"

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Riley did what!" Proclaimed Imy, in a semi-state of shock as she lay across her hospital bed. Her arm was in a sling, and there were heavy bandages around her waist.

Aria sighed, "She just up and left Imy, I've told you twice!"

"That doesn't make sense!" She pouted, "Riley would never do something like that… I mean, come on, it's _Riley_ for christsakes! Shy, quiet Riley. She wouldn't just go military psycho and leave us here while she went looking for revenge!"

Aria shrugged, not knowing what else to do. It was true that Riley was the least likely of the four to go and maim somebody, but then again, from what Aria knew Riley wasn't the type to have an emotional breakdown like she had earlier either. Something just wasn't adding up, "I don't know what to tell you, she was acting way different than she normally does."

Imy then seemed to be scrutinizing Aria, "Why should I trust you?" She mused to herself, and then narrowing her eyes at her, "You hate Riley."

Aria awkwardly scratched the back of her neck. For the longest time, she had believed that to be true, she _had _hated her. But with the recent string of events she didn't think she could ever go back to the feelings of revulsion she once had for Riley. For once, she actually felt like she was on the same page as her; hating being a goddess, angry at the circumstances, and most of all, scared. Now it seemed unlikely that the two would ever become close, or maybe even friends, but they at least understood where each of them were coming from. "I don't hate her." She muttered bluntly.

Imy looked like she was about to respond, but suddenly there was a brash knock on the door. Her face paled, "Aria, you're not supposed to be in here." She said in a harsh whisper.

Aria kept her glance nervously flickering back and forth between the door and Imy, "Thank you Captain Obvious." She looked around quickly, trying to find a place to hide. "What should I do?"

"Hello?" Came a polite voice from the other side of the door, "Are you awake?"

"Here!" rasped Imy extending her hand, "Take it!" Then, in a more level voice, "Yes, just a second please."

Aria shook her head, "That could only injure yourself further, and I don't have enough energy to heal you and Twiggy in the same day."

Imy also shook her head, "Look, it'll be a quick trip to the parking lot and back."

"What if someone sees us?" She responded.

"What if someone connects you to Twiggy?" Imy countered, "Just take my hand, it'll be quick."

"Are you alright in there?" Came the voice behind the door once again.

Sighing, Aria placed her hand in Imy's bandaged one, and the two disappeared.

"I'm coming in," Came the voice again, this time opening the door.

The voice belonged to Officer Gordon Jacobson, LAPD. His eyes surveyed the room, a perfectly normal recovery room, with the television on, and a few scattered paintings and plants to help with the serene effect. The blinds were partially opened, revealing a few cracks of fading sunlight from the Los Angeles evening.

But one thing was missing.

There was no patient.

He scratched the back of his head in confusion, but then his doubts were dispelled when he heard the flush of the toilet from the room's adjacent bathroom. There was the sound of running water, then the door opened to reveal a teenage girl in a hospital gown with a sling and bandages around her chest.

"Um, hi." She stated, looking at the officer quizzically, "Is something wrong?"

Gordon, a middle aged man with sandy blond hair flicked with gray and a gruff demeanor just rubbed his temples and took a seat next to the hospital bed. "Nothing, I just thought that the room was empty for a minute."

"That's definitely strange." She agreed, carefully hoisting herself onto the bed, "So, er, you're not a nurse or a doctor." She stated bluntly, looking at the shiny silver badge pinned to his navy uniform.

"No, I'm not." He replied, extending a calloused hand, "Ms. Imy Vanessa Ormond, I presume? I'm Officer Jacobson."

She nodded but did not return the gesture. When he looked slightly offended at her rudeness, she simply gestured to her slinged arm, "I'd shake your hand, but I'm afraid to move this arm." A thin tremor of worry passed over her face, "Can I ask why you're here?" a pause, "I'm not in some sort of trouble, am I?"

Gordon gave her a level stare, "That remains to be seen. First of all, I have some questions about the accident, a hit and run is no minor offense."

"Naturally." She replied.

Absently, the policeman removed a small notebook from the lining of his jacket and grabbed a pencil from his pocket, "So, when did this accident occur?"

Imy thought, "Around 9:30."

"And whose car were you in?"

"Twiggy, er, Todd Towlen's car." She replied, using his legal name.

"What type of car was it?" He asked, chewing on the end of the pencil, his intimidating stare never leaving Imy's.

"A '76 Chevy." She said.

"What model?"

"Er, couldn't tell you. I don't know a whole lot about cars." She was trying to keep from getting nervous or anxious, which could convince the cop that something else was going on other than a simple accident.

"And where were you going?" All the questions he spoke were with a coarseness that told Imy he would go to any lengths to ensure the answers were factual. It worried her slightly.

"Band practice."

"And who was in the car?" He asked again.

She was sure that information as basic as this had already been supplied to him, but she answered anyways, "Myself, Todd Towlen, and Riley Zalank."

"How old are each of you?"

"Todd is eighteen, Riley and I are fifteen."

"Where and how did the accident occur?" He asked.

"We were at an intersection off of Wilshire Boulevard and Perrin Street, someone ran a red light. They cut us off, so Twiggy, um, Todd swerved to avoid hitting them and instead hit a telephone pole."

"Were any of you wearing seat belts?" He questioned, scribbling down notes on the paper.

Imy turned slightly crimson, "Todd and I weren't. I think Riley was."

"And how fast were you going?"

"Maybe 40, 45."

"You realize the intersection was a 30 mile an hour zone?"

She turned her attention from the cop to a nearby scenic painting, "Uh, ya."

"Interesting. What happened on impact?" Now, his expression had changed from uninterested to extreme attention.

"I'm not quite sure." She muttered, still staring at the painting. She didn't like where the conversation was going, and now more than ever she wanted to use her powers to get away.

"Do you know what happened to Riley, or Todd?" His eyes narrowed, "Yourself?"

She scratched her neck with her free hand, "Not really, no."

"Well," His voice dripped with skeptism, "Let me enlighten you. Mr. Towlen was thrown head-first into the dashboard of his car. Since cars of that age are not equipped with air bags, the force he hit it with cracked his skull and created some severe hemorrhaging to the brain. He fell into a coma, and doctors suspected he wouldn't wake up anytime in the near future, if ever. By all rights, he should have been dead on impact." He paused, carefully reading Imy's face for clues, she gave him none, "Riley Zalank was fortunate and wearing her seatbelt, she suffered a minor abrasion on her head, and about ten stitches in her leg. She was out in under an hour." His mouth was practically severing the poor eraser from the end of the pencil, "And you, you are an interesting case, Ms. Ormond."

"Interesting?" She asked, mocking ignorance. Her face was pale and her jaw was clenched.

"Yes. According to eyewitness reports, Ms. Ormond, you were ejected from the passenger seat on impact." He drummed his fingers on the bed's railings, "Yet you are fine, saved the dislocated shoulder and bruised ribs." There was an awkward pause, "Ms. Ormond, are you aware that the force in which you hit the windshield is your weight times the miles per hour you were traveling?"

She bit her lip, "No."

"And I'd say you're about, what? 115, 120 pounds?"

She nodded.

"That would imply that the force you hit the windshield with was around 4,800 miles per hour, since you said the car was driving at about 40 mph and you were not wearing a seatbelt." He leaned forward in his seat, "Tell me, Ms. Ormond, why is it that you aren't dead?"

_I can't teleport, I can't teleport._ She muttered to herself.

"And also, can you please explain to me how it is medically possible that Mr. Towlen was able to miraculously heal from a fatal hemorrhage and check out of the hospital, oh say," He glanced at his watch, "A mere seven hours after he was admitted?" In response to Imy's silence, he continued, "And also, why is it that Riley Zalank, the only one with a coherent mind at the time of the accident, has suddenly vanished?" He slowly sat up in his chair, "Now, I'm not going to bother you about this now, you've had a trying day, but know this; I will be calling."

He stood up and slowly headed to the door, leaving a stunned Imy behind him, "When they evacuated the totaled car from the crash site, the windshield was totally intact." He turned and looked at her, "How exactly were you able to be thrown out of the car, and land in front of it, without shattering a windshield?" He opened the door as he started leaving, "Your parents have checked you out of the hospital, I'm sure they're dying to see if you're alright." He uttered before he left.

Once she was sure he had left the room and was out of hearing distance, Imy collapsed against her bed, "Oh. Shit."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

After Imy had hastily teleported her to the hospital's parking lot, Aria collapsed against the iron benches that lined the sidewalk. She was exhausted. Saving some guy from the brink of death was not exactly a walk in the park, and she had a racking headache.

That happened sometimes. Occasionally, when she used her powers, a small percentage of the pain that the victims were feeling circled back to her. Right now, given the circumstances, she wouldn't be surprised if she had a mild concussion. She wouldn't go back into the hospital, not if her life depended on it, for treatment. It would eventually work its way out of her system. Thanks to her gifts from Selene, she had a faster immune system and better healing capabilities. It would be painless soon.

She was drained, naturally. The inexperience with her power due to lack of practice had created a severe handicap for her. Though repairing a cracked skull was no small task, she couldn't help the nagging little voice inside of her head that told her she would have been able to walk away scot-free without a headache with plenty energy to spare had she just practiced a little. She absently toyed with her moon amulet, glowing brightly despite the fatigue of its owner.

She now knew there would be no escape of her destiny. There would be no excuses, or forgetting, or abandoning. She had power, she knew it, and now, so did Riley. Whereas before she could have just shrugged it off, saying the ability to heal was a meager gift in battle against an evil force, but now there was no avoiding it. Healing was a gift, and she couldn't avoid or hide it anymore.

It was time for Aria to step up to the plate, and to accept responsibility.

She grabbed her pink cell phone out of her fringe purse, and dialed a number. There were a few rings before someone finally picked up.

"Hello? Dylan? Could you tell mom I'm going to be out late tonight?"

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

There was a long moment when both of her parents had been hysterical, frantically crying and fussing over her, ensuring she really was o.k. and not on a death bed, and that she was, in fact, still breathing.

Then that moment passed rapidly fast, and by the time the car ride home came, her parents, namely her father, was furious.

"Honestly, Imy! What was he thinking!" Her dad bellowed, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white, "Speeding! Not wearing a seat belt, or paying attention to the road! You and Riley could've been killed!"

"Kyle, calm down," Muttered her mom from the passenger's seat, "The police told us it wasn't Twiggy's fault."

"I don't care what the police say!" He said, fuming, "Your daughter, your only child, could be road kill on the side of the road due to that boy's irresponsibility!"

Her mom seemed to almost subdue, then her temper also started flaring up, "It was a hit and run, Kyle! There was no way possible to avoid it, and it's _extremely_ unfair of you to blame it solely on him!"

"I never trusted that boy, never." He shook his head violently, and Imy feared he'd get whiplash, "With that ratty hair, chain-smoking, and reckless driving. Never trusted him a bit."

"Quit it Kyle, just quit it!" Catty replied, practically removing her hair from its roots, "It was an _accident_! Imy's safe, that's all that matters."

"We should sue." He snarled, "It's just about as close as vehicular manslaughter as you could get. He should be in jail."

Catty's face was read and about ready to burst, when Imy interjected, "You know, did it ever occur to either of you that I might have an opinion on the matter?"

Both of her parents immediately shut up, her father glanced at her through the overview mirror, and her mother turned around in her seat. "Sorry." They both mumbled.

Imy sighed, "Mom's right dad, it _was_ an accident, at least on Twiggy's part. The police will find out who really hit us, and they'll take things over from there." She gestured at herself, "Look? See? Still breathing. Now, just stop bickering. I've got a huge headache."

The car ride remained silent from that point on.

When the Ormonds arrived home, Imy was immediately sent to bed with much fussing. Sighing as she looked at the time to discover it was only 6:30, and that there was much more pressing matters to attend to.

For instance, stopping Riley before she tried to kill herself.

She reached painfully for the phone in her room, dialing Tessa's number, she was disappointed to hear a man's voice on the other line.

"Hey, is Tessa there? It's Imy."

"_Sorry, she left about an hour ago."_ Came Ezra, Tessa's older brother and legal guardian.

"Do you know where? It's kinda important."

"Yeah, she headed out with Riley to go shopping or something."

Imy paled. There was no way in hell Riley would storm out of the hospital to go shopping, "Erm, do you know which mall?"

"_I think they were going over to that new one they've built, on the opposite side of Sunset." _Ezra replied, now sounding concerned, _"Is everything alright?"_

Imy gave a hard swallow, "Everything's fine. Later Ezra." She mumbled.

"Bye Imy, take care."

She set the phone down on the receiver. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. So Riley and Tessa were heading to the new mall to go…shopping… Her mind raced, something about the new mall didn't sit right, and she mentally scanned through her memories.

"Jimena wants us to check out this new hotspot for Followers." Riley said.

Hotspot. Followers. New mall.

"Oh no." She whispered.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Aria sat at the bench for a while, wondering what to do. It was imperative that she had to somehow stop or help Riley, but the problem was, she didn't know where to find her. And thanks to her reluctance, she didn't know either Imy or Tessa's phone numbers.

"Stupid," She berated herself, as she sat with her feet swaying back and forth on the bench she was too short for.

Almost through a miracle, her phone rang at that instant, she picked it up.

"_Aria!" _ The voice practically screeched.

"Yes?" She asked.

"_Thank god. Look, it's Imy, Riley's in way over her head."_

Aria had to physically restrain herself from rolling her eyes, "I figured that. How?"

"Somehow, Riley's convinced Tessa to go with her to the new mall."

"The agony." Muttered Aria.

"The new mall is the new local spot for Followers. For instance, oh, say Tymmie? Cassandra? Ring any bells?"

Aria involuntarily shuddered at the mere memory of her first encounter with the Followers. If not for the intervention of the three guys, the Daughters could have very well lost their hope. Tymmie, especially, gave her the creeps. "Oy."

"_Yeah. Oy." _Replied Imy caustically.

Aria put her hand to her forehead, relieved that the burning was fading away, "So, sorry if this sounds stupid, but what exactly does Tessa do again?"

"She's an illusionist."

"So she does what? Mirror tricks?"

"Not exactly. Tessa's probably the one with the gift that's actually good for fighting. She can change the surroundings to appear different. For instance, in someone's eye, changing downtown Los Angeles into a lonely barren desert."

"So what do you need me for if she can do all that?"

"Because Tessa's not exactly perfect at controlling her power. All those years of binge drinking and hopping up on ecstasy have done something to her mind. She might be aiming to do something, but it never comes out completely right. She's learning, but so far the most impressive trick I've seen her do, with complete control, was to make herself appear about six feet to the left of where she actually was." Explained Imy.

"They're screwed, you're saying."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. Sometimes Tessa gets a scenario to work out perfectly with only a few bugs. Other times… well, let's just say its not pretty."

Aria nodded, "Got it, so what do you want me to do?"

"_Well, normally I'd do this myself, but I'm currently incapacitated, what with my parents checking in on me every five minutes, but I want you to meet them at the mall. Riley might need some calming down, but chances are, if you can talk Tessa out of it, Riley will follow." _There was a pause, _"I don't want Riley getting hurt. Tessa either."_

"I understand what you want me to do, but what if we get ambushed? My power's dry, I don't know what kind of help I'll be." Aria said, anxiety creeping into her voice.

"_That's why I'm calling Jimena after I'm done with you," she replied, "I figure as the Magna Mater, she's got to have some kind of gift from Selene herself." _There was another pause, _"If nothing else, give me a call, I'll risk teleporting."_

"Is that smart, I mean with your-"

"_I know, I know." _She sighed, _"But if me being bedridden a couple more days is what it comes down to, I'll take my chances."_

"What are some backups?" Aria demanded.

"_What do you mean?" _Asked Imy.

"I mean, what if Jimena or you teleporting isn't an option? What then?"

There was a long pause on the other line, _"I've got an idea for backup."_

"Who?" She once again demanded.

"An ex-boyfriend of mine."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

**These chapters just keep getting longer, don't they? Of course they do.**

Anyways, I'm not going to be able to respond to individual reviews this time. My internet is down, so I have to upload this chap at school (we're not supposed to do that, and they're all monitored. It's like friggin Big Brother.) so it's virtually impossible to type the responses out. Sorry : ( when internet's back up I'll continue doing that, but for now, it's on hiatus.

Next Up: Riley and Tessa

**Thanks to all the reviewers**

**Toodles**

**!nym!**


	9. 7 Two Teams part two

**Chapter Seven: Two Teams**

Part Two: A Settling of Scores

"Tell me again what exactly it is we're doing?" asked Tessa as she sat behind the wheel of her brother's jeep, expertly driving in downtown L.A. "And don't give me the sad excuse of going shopping."

Riley sighed, leaning backwards in the passenger's seat, "The new mall is supposed to be a hotspot for Followers. Jimena wants us to check it out." It was true, at least, partially true.

"That doesn't explain why Imy or Aria aren't going." She eyed her, "What's going on Riley?"

Riley groaned, "The truth?"

"The truth."

"Twiggy was in a car accident this morning." She stated bluntly.

"Is he ok?" Asked Tessa with a neutral tone.

"Aria was able to heal him. He should've been dead Tessa," She paused, "He should have been dead."

"So what, Aria used her powers up? Big deal. You, Imy, and me have battled Followers without her help before." Her eyes were intently focused on the road as she said this.

"Imy was in the same car accident as Twiggy. So was I."

There was a sudden jerk in the car, as Tessa shook herself from her momentary lapse of attention from the road, "You're saying-?"

"I'm saying that if it weren't for the Daughter powers, Imy and Twiggy would be dead now." There was a silence before she spoke up again, "But fortunately for us, Imy was able to teleport out of the car instead of sailing through a windshield, and Twiggy was capable of recovery from his hemorrhage."

"Then why the hell are we going to fight Followers!" Exclaimed Tessa as she got in a turning lane, "It can wait until everything's sorted out."

Riley pursed her lips, "No, it can't."

"Riley, you're not making any sense," Replied Tessa, exasperated.

"Tessa, it was my mom and a Follower who were driving the car that hit us." Spoke Riley softly, a dangerous edge to her tone that made Tessa slightly unnerved.

"You're saying that your mom-"

"Tried to kill me." She chuckled bitterly, "Yeah that's about it."

Tessa looked over her shoulder and slowly pulled to the side of the road. "Riley, what are you going to do?" She asked quietly.

Riley once again slumped against her seat, "I want answers Tessa. I'm tired of being left in the dark." She swallowed, "I'm tired of having to look over my shoulder all the time, I'm tired of never being able to close my eyes, tired of passing out, tired of fearing my own mother who raised me, of being constantly paranoid, and I'm just, I'm just-" She exhaled, realizing she had been babbling on hysterically, "Tired." She finished weakly.

Tessa had been gripping the parked car's steering wheel so tight her knuckles were whitened, "I understand where you're coming from, but do you really think it's smart to go charging into a Follower cesspool to talk to your mom, especially when there's only two of us?"

There was once again another silence between the two girls as each mulled this over. Riley stared vacantly out the window, looking at the now darkened sky and the sliver of waxing moon.

"I have to do this." She muttered, more to herself than to Tessa, "I can't keep living like this. I just can't." She turned her stress-strained glance to her fellow Daughter, "You have to understand Tess, I'm doing this with or without your help."

She absently drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, "I can't let you go in alone, Riley." She muttered.

"Then you're with me?" Riley asked, her tone flat and to the point.

There was a pause as Tessa finally, and begrudgedly, answered, "Yeah, I'm with you."

The eerie stillness once again fell over the car, as both Tessa and Riley looked out of the windows and into the foreboding night ahead of them.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

When the Jeep Cheroke pulled into the new mall's almost empty parking lot, Riley stopped Tessa before she jumped out of the car.

"We need a plan." She whispered.

"Oh," stated Tessa, rolling her eyes, "Now she wants a plan."

"I'm serious," Riley said, narrowing her gaze, "We can't just go barging in there entirely unprepared."

Tessa contemplated the scenario, "Well, fearless leader, what do you suggest?"

"One thing's certain. If my mom is there, Tymmie will be there as well." Said Riley.

"You take on your mom, and I take on Tymmie? Fat chance, I'll be knocked out before I can even summon a half-decent illusion." She replied bitterly, "We need Imy and Aria."

"Well, they're not going to be showing up anytime soon." Retorted Riley, "And no. Tymmie's just as strong as all four of us combined, perhaps stronger. And I doubt I can fight my own mother." She considered her next words carefully, "What we need to do is go in there, not picking a fight, but trying to resolve an issue."

Tessa huffed, "That's a great idea Riley, but what kind of bullshit can we pull to make a conversation with a Follower sound convincing?" She collapsed in frustration, "This whole thing is pointless."

Riley couldn't help but pick up the numerous strands of irritation that were spurting from her like a fountain, "Maybe it is, but I have to end these nightmares and visions, whatever the Atrox wants from me, I'll give it to them provided they leave me alone." She bit her lip, "I want my mother out of my life forever."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Riley realized true they were. Her mother had raised her, fed her, clothed her, maybe on some level loved her, but now that she had discovered she was this cruel, heartless thing there was nothing left but malice where pity and affection had once been. If her own mother wanted her dead, why should she want her to play a role in her life? She had a new family now, the Daughters, and Jimena.

"But Riley." Spoke Tessa hoarsely.

"But what?"

"What if what they want is you?"

That idea had been recircling Riley's head ever since the hospital. Trysten had called her Lecta, Tymmie had hinted at things, and her mother was the dominant figure in her nightmares. It was a very real and frightening possibility that the Followers were after her, but the main question was why. And Riley intended to figure that out tonight.

"If they want me, they'll have to fight hard." She said softly, "I'm not going to be pulled around like a puppet anymore."

Tessa gave a grunt, "Then what's the plan?" She asked.

"I'll tell you when I think of one." Riley said hopelessly.

"Let's be proactive, shall we?" Tessa began crisply, "Obviously, a full-frontal assault is out of consideration, and I seriously doubt the simple walk and talk method you have will pan out." She slumped back against her seat, "Have two Daughters ever gone up against so many Followers?"

Riley shook her head, "No, not since-" Her sentence froze when she absent-mindedly stared at the moon pendant around Tessa's neck, "Not since Imy and I attempted to rescue you." She trailed off dumbly.

"What do you mean? There were three, you, Imy, and Aria."

"Yes, but-" Said Riley, beginning to get enthused, "But we hadn't expected Aria to come along, she was a complete-"

"-Surprise." Finished Tessa, getting the gist of where Riley was going, "Are you sure? I mean, that's extremely risky."

Riley nodded, gripping the handle of the door, "I'm positive. I have to face them alone, you hide out in another section of the mall, and be there at all times." She gave a small smile, "If something happens, throw an illusion and we'll escape. It's that simple."

Tessa moaned, "You're crazy."

"Completely." Agreed Riley.

"Did you forget that I'm not exactly in control of my powers?" She questioned.

Riley bit her lip, "It's a risk. But it'll have to work."

Tessa exhaled in irritation as Riley stepped out of the car and onto the pavement of the parking lot, a horrible nauseating feeling settling in the pit of her stomach, "Just be careful Riley, and don't do anything stupid." She muttered, turning the key in the ignition to start her car."

"Wouldn't dream of it," She replied meekly, shutting her door and watching as Tessa's yellow jeep pulled off into the distance.

She numbly felt the area of her chest where the silver necklace had hung, and mentally cursed herself for not wearing it. She had the gut instinct that she would need it tonight. Shrugging off the horrible feelings of foreboding panic and fear, she heard the soles of her worn sneakers crunching against the pavement, moving in an almost mechanical way.

Taking a deep breath and clearing all thoughts of Tessa from her mind, she approached the plexiglass revolving doors of the mall, and entered it.

The chill of the night receded into cheap fluorescent lighting and obnoxiously loud teenagers as she stood in the entrance. She took a few moments to survey her surroundings. Everything appeared normal, a food court down the hall, some retail stores, a music place, not exactly the environment you'd expect to find hopeless incarnates of an evil demi-god.

She walked forward however, because unlike the normal spectator, Riley could sense the emotions and feelings that floated in this place the way rain still clings to the air after a storm. Sure, there were the normal emotions of the average human being, but at the core of it, there was this gnawing undertone of despair that was the calling card of a Follower.

She avoided the stares of people, and kept her head down with her hands in her pockets. She tracked the trail as it pulled her along, through various places and even stores that the Followers had once frequented, until she could feel such a strong overwhelming sense of it that she knew she was close. She looked up from her feet when she felt she was near, and the first thing she noticed was a very smug looking Tymmie from across the food court.

Shuddering the way she always did when she saw him, she began to feel the instant urge to run away and cower. He was sitting on a bench, his arm lazily around a scantily clad blonde teen who was totally enthralled with whatever it was he was talking about. When Riley noticed the smug constant grin he always had, her fear was replaced by her anger. This, and those like him, were responsible for the almost death of her two closest friends.

But the newfound rage did little to quell the anxious butterflies in her stomach, "No way." She whispered to herself. Cascading feelings of panic began to flow through her, "No way!" she said a little bit louder. Turning quickly on her heel, she headed down an opposite corner. She absently felt the place around her neck where the chain for her amulet would've been.

Pressed against a wall, Riley sunk down until she was in a crouching position, resting on her knees. Inhaling sharply, trying to calm herself, her mouth drifted over the all too familiar words, "O Mater Luna, Regina Nocis, adiuvo me nunc." She muttered pitifully, a small surge of power coursing through her. Her thoughts became a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions as she tried to regain control of herself. So engrossed was she, that she didn't notice the distant calling of her name.

"RILEY!" The ominous voice screeched.

She finally summoned up enough courage to look in the direction of the voice, and shock was barely concealed on her normally reserved face as she saw the flustered looking girl with curly hair come bounding up the halls. "Aria? What are you doing here?" She questioned, confused.

Aria ran up besides her, panting heavily, "Making sure you don't do something entirely stupid."

Riley simply cradled her head in her hands, "People seem to be saying that a lot lately," She mumbled.

Aria looked at her crossly, the air of superiority that always hung about her returning, "Maybe its because you're heading by yourself against immortal foes you halfwit!" She snapped.

Riley sent her a look of murderous rage, "You wouldn't understand." She stated coldly, glaring at her.

Aria felt herself shrink back for a moment but quickly composed herself, "What's not to understand Riley?" She spat, "Did you even think for a moment what you're getting yourself into?"

"I know what I'm doing." She stated gritting her teeth and trying to suppress an outburst.

"Obviously not." Responded Aria, "Otherwise you'd know that it's not just yourself that you're putting in danger!"

The froze Riley for a moment, "What do you mean?"

"I mean think about your friends! Imy's been going crazy worrying about you!" She cried, "You know how many times she's called me to see if I had found you yet? Huh? Twelve times in the past half hour! Twelve!" She paused.

"Imy will understand," Disregarded Riley.

Aria was now gnawing on her lower lip, "Think about Jimena then! She's going to go crazy once she hears about the accident and realizes what you're doing!"

Riley simply shook her head, her anxieties from before fading and being replaced with a new sense of purpose, "Jimena doesn't care about me." She muttered, remembering all the times she felt like some kind of burden or last priority to the Magna Mater, and the occasions when Jimena would regard her with fear and distrust, simply for being her mother's daughter.

"Bullshit!" Snapped Aria, "That's complete bullshit and you know it. Why else would she have you live with her?"

"To keep an eye on me!" Riley outburst, "To make sure I don't fade to the dark and cross over! To keep you, Imy, and Tessa safe! Why else would she give me the moon amulet of a former fallen Daughter?" She growled, "I'm tired of being treated like some vulnerable little girl who needs protection all the time. I'm just flat out sick of it! I can handle Followers on my own. I can handle Tymmie and my mot- Cassandra on. My. Own. I don't need your help!"

Aria could feel Riley projecting her emotions like crazy, and a sense of irritation and hurt came upon her as well, "Riley, face it, you need us! As much as I have hated to admit it, we're a team, sisters even, we're bound by this stupid destiny and because of that we have to work together." She rasped, she calmed down however, when she saw a few stares coming from the other passerby shoppers, "Let us help you Riley. You're not on your own."

Riley heaved a sigh, releasing all of her anger with it, and replaced her emotions with a cold, hard stare, "I'm sorry Aria, more than you'll know, but I have to do this."

Aria raised an eyebrow, "Sorry for wha-?"

But Riley using her empathetic powers to pull the emotion of fatigue over her, draining her ability to react, cut off her question, and Aria slumped down on the floor. Riley closed her eyes, willing the emotion of guilt to leave her as she carefully whispered over her, "You can't help me Aria, no one can." She paused again, "I'm sorry."

She sighed to herself, despite the feelings of remorse swelling in her chest from the use of her powers on Aria, she knew that it was a mandatory step for her to get to her moth- Cassandra. The Followers weren't likely to take her seriously when she brought another Goddess with her, and she could tell Aria was determined to not let her go on her own against Tymmie. It was inevitable, and she cursed herself for making a move so low, but it had to be done. The nightmares and paranoia had to stop, and she somehow knew that a singular conversation with her mother was the best way of ensuring that they did.

She looked at Aria and cursed, there was no way she could leave her lying there in the midst of a mall full of Followers. Grinding her teeth she managed to pull Aria by her arms and drag her across the hallway to a bathroom, where she propped her against the doors in one of the stalls and locked the door.

She sighed, "Sorry Aria, but I'll only keep you under for a few minutes, just enough time for me to get done what I need to get done." She stated, knowing full well that Aria could hear her, "Hopefully no one will try and use this stall." She muttered, "Tessa will be able to help you once you wake up."

She groaned and took the familiar position of slumping against the floor, "What to do, what to do." She mused to herself silently.

She tried to outline her thoughts correctly. Tymmie was in the mall, while she had not yet seen Cassandra. Aria was currently taking a nap in the mall bathroom and Tessa was nowhere to be seen but she assumed that she was around, detailing her every move and ready to jump in and help her if need be. Imy knew about her storming off, thanks to Aria, and most likely it would be only a matter of moments before Jimena discovered her whereabouts as well and came charging to her 'rescue', ready to ensure she didn't cross over to the dark. She had little time, and she had to move quickly.

Slowly standing up, her mind with a new sense of direction, she quickly tried to shield and hide any thoughts about Aria or Tessa in the mall with her, lest they became incriminating, and she simply replayed a thought in her memory over and over, the memories of her and Aria fighting. It was a feeble attempt, but hopefully it would misguide Tymmie if he tried to read her mind.

Her face set in a grim line of determination; she exited the bathroom and made her way over to the food court. It was a Friday night, so the mall was packed with a mixture of all walks of life from the Los Angeles area. It was so packed in fact, that Riley sincerely doubted that she would be able to find the person she was searching for; Tymmie.

As she carefully once again surveyed her scenario, she was relieved to find him exactly where she had left him, lazily stretched around some tart sitting on a bench near a large fountain. She repetitively told herself to not be afraid and pulled the feelings of intimidation away from her and tried to focus on the feelings of empowerment and rage. It took her a few moments to weave through the large crowds, for once not apologizing when she ran into innocent bystanders. She kept thinking about her mother's smug look as she pulled away from the car wreck, in order to fuel her rage. Anger was much more easier to cope with then the fear and queasy sensation in her stomach. Finally, she reached her target.

"Tymmie." She spoke coldly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Tymmie seemed too distracted tickling the blonde that was sitting next to him under the chin to notice, but the girl looked up at Riley and annoyance crossed her face, "Can I help you?" She stated saucily, as if help were the last thing on her mind and that she'd rather punch Riley for interrupting her obviously important moment.

Tymmie followed her gaze, wondering what could have possibly diverted her from him, but when he saw Riley his grin grew wider, "Hey Riley." He purred.

The girl looked between her and Tymmie and a defensive note crept into her voice, "You his girlfriend or something?" She demanded.

"Leave." Riley commanded, a sense of authority that she had never had before in her life surging within her, and she willed to the Moon Goddess to keep the sentiment about her.

"Excuse me?" The girl snapped back.

Tymmie withdrew his arm from around her shoulders and stood up, shrugging, "You heard her babe, beat it."

The girl once again looked frantically from Riley, who was eyeing her with obvious disgust, to Tymmie who was pretending she didn't exist. Embarrassed, she grabbed her small handbag and fled as quick as she could. As soon as she had vacated the bench, Tymmie sat down, and patted the seat next to him, "To what do I owe this wonderful surprise? Seeing your glorious presence twice in one day is a bit overkill, don't you think?" He winked, "Unless of course, this isn't about business…"

Riley didn't budge, and she remained as stiff as a statue, "I need to talk to my mother. Now."

Tymmie pouted, his lip ring jutting out at an odd angle, "Aw, didn't come to see me? I must say I'm slightly disappointed."

"Where is she, Tymmie?" She spat, trying to not get preoccupied from her goal.

Tymmie ignored her, as his eyes were searching around the food court, "As happy as I am to see you alone Riley, where's the other Selene cronies?"

"Not here. For the last time, where is she?" Riley replied through gritted teeth, her mind once again focusing on the image of her and Aria fighting.

Tymmie quirked a thrice pierced eyebrow, "I don't believe you."

Her eyes narrowed, "You have the ability to read my mind and find out if you don't believe me." She stated, hoping to provoke him.

He chuckled, "You know, this angry Riley isn't the one I'm used to seeing." He stood up and reared his face next to hers. They were so close she could feel the hot breath on her face, "I like it."

"Don't make me vomit."

He didn't respond, though Riley could feel the odd sensations of tingles flowing through her head, but they soon vanished and Tymmie blinked. His hand delicately touched the skin where Riley's necklace once hung.

"No amulet today," He whispered, more to himself. Riley held her breath, hoping that her ploy wasn't discovered. In a minute that seemed to last forever, the playful look finally disappeared from his features and a grave one resurfaced, "I'll take you to Cassandra."

Riley didn't so much as blink, and resisted the urge to heave a sigh of relief, "Good." She said, stepping away from him, "Let's go."

The features in his face once again metamorphosed into mischievousness, "She's not here."

She froze, fear bubbling up inside of her, "What do you mean she's not here?"

He smirked, "I mean your…lovely mother isn't in the area at the moment." He looped an arm around her waist, which she struggled to get free of, but his grip was stern, "I can take you to her," He whispered in her ear, "But we'd have to leave now."

A million thoughts were running through her head as she thought of Tessa, their somewhat plan, and Aria lying on the bathroom floor sleeping, "Where is she?" She asked.

He put a finger to his lips, "Can't tell you, it's a secret."

She swore to herself. He knew, somehow, he was able to break her mind barriers and he discovered Tessa was waiting for back up and that Aria was bound to wake up in about five or so minutes.

"Is it far?" She murmured weakly, feeling the utter hopelessness of the situation.

He snorted, "Don't worry dea, people will be able to hear your screams."

"Why don't I feel reassured?" She commented.

He laughed, and squeezed her tighter against him, "Don't even think about running off, or I'll have those little friends of yours eliminated before you can even reach the door," he spoke quietly.

She swallowed, her mind trying to run through some backup escape routes, "Fine."

"Don't act all tense either, people will think I'm kidnapping you." He answered.

"As opposed to what you're actually doing?" She muttered.

His eyes met hers, and Riley had to resist the almost magnetic pull that beckoned her closer and closer to her dark side. The almost thread like feel of his emotions danced in the air between them, and none of them were exactly cheery.

"You came looking for us Riley," He stated simply, "Don't forget that."

She bit her lip, "Perhaps, but what was I supposed to do? You keep sending me nightmares, and keep calling to me."

The two had now left the food court, and were walking down the cheaply illuminated hallway to the opening doors, most likely towards the parking lot. Every step held tension and Riley felt as if she were about to burst.

Tymmie scoffed, "You could be like loverboy Trysten and deny our existence for five or so years." He replied rather bitterly, "Although, I have you to thank for his recent coming out."

She froze, "What did I do?"

He smirked, "Aw, c'mon Riley, can't you tell?" A look at her bewildered face and he laughed loudly, a genuine laugh, "No, I suppose not. Trystie's crazy about you. Why else would he break a vow he made to never acknowledge the Atrox? A commitment he's kept for most of his life?" His smirk grew to gigantic proportions, "Believe it or not, Trysten's given up more than you've realized."

She felt her face go extremely hot, and she tried to distract herself from meeting Tymmie's face again. Unfortunately, her brief hiatus of concentration suddenly opened up a barrage of emotions coming from Tymmie, all centered on the subject of Trysten. There were feelings of betrayal, anger, hurt, and the oddest of all, a sense of deep friendship. "How do you two know each other?" She asked shyly, her embarrassment forgotten.

Tymmie opened the door and sent her an odd look, "That's a conversation best saved for later." He said, closing the discussion.

The night was cold, and the stars glittered dimly above the electrical lighting of the parking lot. Riley noticed with some aggravation that his arm was still securely hooked around her waist, "Where's your car?" She asked, desperately wanting to get this over with.

He rolled his eyes, "Right. I'm going to take a car, to a secret location, so your little buddy Goddesses can follow us? Don't make me laugh." He turned his arm, so that now Riley was pressed against his chest. "Hold on tight." He spoke, before the two of them were dissolved into the shadows.

All Riley could think was that perhaps the others were right- maybe she was way over her head.

**-0-**

Hi ya guys. I'm back. I'm really sorry about being so long :( but I have a goal of finishing this before summer's out, and I will….oh, I will….

**Next Up: **Aria's rude awakening, and Tessa and Aria are forced to cope with rather untrustworthy characters in order to rescue their friend.

Review responses will continue after this chapter. : ) thanks to all who read this!

!Nym!


	10. 8 Interlude: prt I Injury

**Night's Children: Nox Noctis**

**AN: **Sorry for my super long break. But I will make it up! I swear! Regretfully, this section has no Tessa, Aria, or Riley. : ( I hope you like it anyways, since this is an abnormally long chap, I have it divided into three short ones. Don't worry, I posted them all at the same time . Part one has some good Imy/Catty mother-daughter bonding, part two focuses on the fuzz and Jimena…being hit on? Part three…well…let's just say it has some characters everyone's been missing ;).

Also, I'm sorry if there's any typos. I was just so excited to post this I skipped that whole editing thing

**Chapter Eight: Interlude**

**Part One: Injury**

"Imy, are you alright?" Came the quiet voice of her mother from the doorway, coming in to check up on her for the millionth time.

"Fine mom," Imy said casually, leaning back on the pillow. That was a blatant lie, Imy felt like she was being ripped apart by pliers. Her best friend was charging ahead on a suicide mission, Tessa helping her with it, and Aria was going to fight Followers with no power at all. To top it all off, Twiggy, whom she had known for years, had almost died today. Yeah mom, I'm fine. Imy thought bitterly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Catty pried gently, leaning against the doorway.

Imy shot a glance at her mom. She looked terrible, her eyes were baggy and puffy from lack of sleep, and there was gray streaks beginning to form at her temples. Her librarian style glasses hung on the tip of her nose, and she looked like she hadn't showered in the past three days. Imy sighed, knowing she was the cause of all of this, her mom had been worried about her. She felt like garbage, knowing that she would have to keep putting her mother through this because she could never tell her the truth. She couldn't, not when her mother had been a Daughter who had chosen to remain on Earth and forget. It broke the rules.

"It's alright mom," She mustered a weak half-smile, "Really, I'm fine."

Catty said nothing but took a seat on her daughter's bed, "Honey," She said gently, "Is this about Twiggy?"

She bit her lip, "Kind of."

"Are you still stewing over what happened this morning?" Catty prodded gently.

Imy sighed, and nodded, "I could've lost him today, when Ari-" Imy caught herself, knowing that Aria wasn't supposed to be anywhere near Twiggy, "Riley told me his condition it hit me like lighting. I'm not untouchable, I'm mortal- everyone I love is mortal." She shook her head slowly, "It…scares me. It scares me to know that someday, I'm going to never see Twiggy, Riley, you or dad again. That one day, you're going to be totally ripped away from my life."

There was a moment of silence between the mother and daughter. Catty wrapped an arm around Imy's good shoulder in a comforting gesture. Both seemed to be at a loss for words, until Catty finally broke the standstill.

She exhaled, "I know what it feels like, Imy, loosing a friend. I know it hurts." Catty stared out of Imy's window, looking out at the bright sliver of moon.

Imy gave her mom a quizzical look, remaining quiet, unsure if she was welcome to know about this painful memory, "Mom?" she asked, silently asking permission.

Catty gave a grim smile and patted her daughter's hand, "I couldn't have been much older than you, I think I was around seventeen, when my best friend was killed."

Her eyes widened, she had never heard this story before. She swallowed a lump in her throat that had magically appeared, "I'm sorry." She muttered, knowing it was a lame response to the story her mother had begun to tell.

Catty's smile didn't falter, and she gave Imy an understanding glance, "It's ok, it happened a long time ago." She once again returned to staring into space, and the stillness of the room began to smother Imy like a blanket. After a few moments, Catty continued, "I still think about her a lot, everyday in fact."

The awkwardness seemed to impossibly expand. Catty was lost in some type of reverie, while Imy stared absently at a corner of her blanket, trying and struggling to come up with an adequate response. "What was her name?" She blurted, the first thing to come to her mind.

"Vanessa." She sighed, her gaze still absent, "Vanessa Cleveland." She turned to look at her, "Your middle name is after her."

Her daughter nodded, making the connection. Catty was watching her, expecting the question as her daughter was never one to contain her curiosity.

"What happened?" Imy questioned, making sure her tone implied that her mom could refuse to answer if she wanted to. The last thing she wanted to do at this moment was offend her mother who was obviously placing a huge confidence on her.

"Her and a once good friend of mine were out late at a party," Catty's voice became flat and emotionless, like a narrator in a play, "The other girl had fallen into a bad crowd, some kind of gang, and Vanessa was trying to get her away from it." Catty gave out a laugh, "Vanessa always wanted to help everyone. Even though it was plain as day that the crowd Serena was hanging around with would only lead to trouble, Vanessa was adamant about helping her out of it. She believed Serena could be saved."

Catty was silent for a moment, and Imy just stared at her, the names seemed very familiar, yet she couldn't place them.

"I guess the gang Serena went around with showed up that night, and some type of fight happened. Before anyone knew it, there were gunshots." Catty took a deep breath, the emotion beginning to seep into her words, as her voice started to waver and her eyes burned with unshed tears, "Vanessa caught a ricocheted bullet to the chest; she died in the street."

"Mom I'm so sorry." Imy whispered, pulling her close into a hug.

Catty was now silently weeping, "The worst thing about it, was that I was powerless to stop it. I remember, I was out of town, seeing my father, when it had happened. All I could think about after I returned was how I should have been there." She shook her head, mocking her own childish naivety, "I felt if I had been there, Serena would have never taken her to that party, or I would have been able to, I don't know, take her away the split second before the bullet hit." She sighed, "I felt as if the entire thing had been my fault." Catty gnawed on her lower lip, "Vanessa hadn't deserved to die alone and more importantly without me. We had been friends since elementary school, and I had always imagined us growing old together, raising families next door to each other and eventually dying together. We were connected deeper than the connection of best friends, we were more like sisters." She heaved one last sob, "When Ness died, all my childish innocence died with her."

She looked at Imy again, and she discovered Imy was crying with her, for Catty had no idea how close to home her words were when Imy thought of Riley.

"After she died, I became paranoid, desperately clinging to everyone I cared about." Catty shot Imy a meaningful look, "I was afraid to leave my friends alone for even a second, I did this because I was desperate to avoid repeating the mistake I made with Vanessa. It terrified me to know that they would leave me, like Vanessa did."

The two of them sat there, once again in silence.

Imy spoke up, "Did you ever get over…get over her death?" She asked gingerly.

Catty shook her head, "No, and I never will. But a part of me was able to recover and keep on living. I was dating your father at the time, and he showed me that if I continued to suffocate myself with worry, I would be too afraid to actually live my life." She looked at Imy, "Believe it or not, I used to be somewhat of a daredevil. Me living as a safety freak was slowly killing my spirit. It me cold, and I was removing qualities from myself that people loved me for. I was becoming flat, emotionless. Some type of non-person. Does that make any sense?"

She nodded, it made perfect sense. It was one of her most dreaded fears. She was terrified of loosing herself in the chaos of this vast, secretive war, of becoming nothing more than a brain-soldier without a mind of her own.

Catty had stopped crying, and the occasional sniffle was the only sign of her earlier breakdown, "Before Vanessa died, I had thought that my friends and I were untouchable, like gods or something. I thought that death was something that only happened to bad people, and that good people, or at least people who tried to be good always won in the end. But I saw that it wasn't the case, God doesn't pick favorites."

Catty gripped her daughter fiercely, carefully minding her bruised ribs and dislocated shoulder, "I know that Todd is a nice boy, Imy, and I'm sorry your father and I were yelling in the car. It's just…we don't want you or Riley hurt." She eased back so she could look her in the eyes, "It's not that you're not a good kid, because you, Todd, and Riley are, it's more like there's bad people in the world Imy, and in the end you always have to be careful." She sighed, "Vanessa and Serena were both good people, but trouble found them, it can find you too." She gave an affectionate ruffle of Imy's hair, "Please just…try to remember you're not invincible ok? I don't want to see you in harm's way."

Imy swallowed, there's bad people in the word, if only she remembered. She tried to muster up a brave face, to reassure her mother who looked like she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She had to be strong, not just for her mom, or Riley but for herself. She had to force herself through this destiny; she had to overcome the obstacles. Catty's talk had made her see that. How could she help others, if she couldn't even help herself?

Imy nodded, "I promise." With those two words the tension seemed to disappear from the room, she looked at her mother, who still stared at her through strained eyes, "Just try and get some sleep, ok? You and dad both look like you're about to collapse."

Catty slumped a bit, "It's been a very long week." She looked as if she were about to cry again, "You have to understand, when we got the call, Kyle and I thought the worst." She squeezed Imy's arm, "You're the most important thing in both of our lives. If we lost you, I don't know what I'd do."

Imy gave a watery smile, touched at the raw emotion she heard in Catty's voice, "I love you mom."

"Love you too Imy." Called her mother quietly as she exited the room, shutting off the light.

Imy waited until she was sure her mom was out of the room before she took out her amulet from under her shirt. It gleamed in the moonlight, trying to tell her something, and Imy could feel a dull pulse coming from it.

Her thoughts trailed to her mom's story. She felt a stab of pity for the girl Vanessa; after all, she had only been trying to help out her friend before she did something stupid. Her thoughts drifted to Riley. Was she ok? Was she hurting somewhere? Was she…

She abruptly stopped that train of thought.

I should've been there.

Imy straightened up. If she let Riley handle this on her own, knowing what the consequences would be, she couldn't live with herself. She would not allow that constant 'what if?' in the back of her mind if Riley was harmed and she didn't do a thing to stop it.

Please just…try to remember you're not invincible ok?

Imy breathed out slowly, "I'm sorry mom." She whispered.

She was going to go out and find Riley before the Followers.

She wouldn't allow her and Riley become another Vanessa and Catty.


	11. 8 Interlude: prt II Investigation

Night's Children: Nox Noctis

**AN: ** Part Two! I made up the model of the car, please forgive me :shame:

**Chapter Eight: Interlude**

**Part Two: Investigation**

Jimena sighed as her eyes blurred for about the fifth time that day as she stared at the glowing computer screen. Working as a secretary for Hans and Phan, a rapidly growing non-profit law firm, was a stressing job by itself, but her thoughts kept trailing back to the four young girls she was mentoring. A small smile graced her features; they reminded her strongly of her own sisters, yet each held their own flair of individuality.

The strongest resemblance was shown through Aria and Vanessa. Aria, like Vanessa, was a very reluctant Daughter of Selene. She had a harder time of accepting her destiny and coping with the fact that the world she knew and loved was not all it appeared to be. They both shared a strong compassion, although unlike Vanessa, Aria chose to hide hers from the world. Aria hid behind her fears, instead of accepting them like Vanessa had. She raised the walls between herself and the other Daughters, shutting herself off. It made her weaker in that aspect, she refused to trust or rely on anyone other than her. Her mindset would make the prospect of teamwork between the young goddesses harder to come by, and it was her that Jimena secretly worried about the most.

Tessa was very similar to a young Catty. Both of them were reckless and daring, never considering the consequences of their actions. Tessa held the same boldness as she, for Jimena had never seen Tessa shrink away from a responsibility or the prospect of danger. And they both held a fierce loyalty for their sisters; she knew that Tessa would not hesitate to sacrifice her life for Imy's, Riley's, or even Aria's. The difference was that where Catty had been fun-loving and carefree, Tessa was bitter and cynical. The girl had seen too much, and lacked Catty's naivety. Tessa had been at her very worst, a human dependant on substances in order to make it through the day, for more than a few years. She had seen most of the horrible aspects of life, and had to claw her way back to a normal life.

Then there was Riley. So much like Serena, and yet her polar opposite. Serena had been beautiful, full of life, and adventurous. Whenever she had walked into a room, people had stopped whatever they were doing and directed all of their attention to her. She commanded respect but there was always this warm, welcoming presence about her. Riley, on the other hand, was cold, distant. She kept to herself, appearing somber and timid to all but the chosen few she trusted. She never opened up to anyone, other than Imy. All Riley seemed to do was drift through each day, hoping to be ignored and thus was. To any who did not take the time to know her, she was easily forgettable. But the unfortunate fact still remained that both she and Serena were the Daughters easily susceptible to their dark sides. Serena had been lured into the shadowed world of the Followers through Stanton and the fear of being without him, while Riley had her mother's influences combined with her own depression and loneliness leading her quickly down the path of evil. Jimena knew she had two options with Riley: sway her to the side of light and quickly expel the darkness within her, or to stop her before the Followers got to her, and she destroyed the other Daughters. She had made the mistake of trusting Serena to deal with her own evils; she would not repeat it with Riley.

And finally, there was Imy. Imy reminded Jimena of herself. Both were horribly stubborn, hotheaded, and defiant. Yet both were logical about all situations they encompassed, calculating the outcomes of events before they actually happened. Both were protective, and both would never allow harm to befall those they cared about. The difference between Jimena and Imy was the fact that Jimena was simply tougher. She had experienced more and never allowed emotional issues to cloud her judgment. Imy tended to think with her heart on occasion, letting her feelings get in the way.

They had shortcomings and weaknesses, but the other members would compensate for them. Riley was the calm to Tessa's storm, Imy was the comfort to Riley's loneliness, and when Aria accepted her destiny fully, she would be there to help fix the broken pieces. Aria inspired the feeling of humanity in all of them, her attachments to her old reality constantly reminding the others that they were still teenagers, allowing them to keep a certain sense of innocence. Tessa gave hope to them all, constantly battling her addictions and slowly winning, while Imy helped connect the girls together and pushed them to continue. Riley was the emotional rock, bearing her own pain and that of the others silently, she balanced the group, whether she realized it or not.

Jimena ran a hand through her thick black hair; they weren't perfect, far from it. Yet they simply fit.

Sometimes that was all you needed.

"Ms. Castillo?" A pleasantly low voice interrupted her musings.

Jimena jerked awake, reminding herself she was at work. She sat up straight, and smoothed the wrinkles in her skirt before she addressed the speaker, "Yes?" She asked politely.

The middle-aged man, handsome with sharp black eyes and graying black hair, leaned casually against the oak banister that surrounded her desk, "Not slacking off on the job are we?" He chorded with good humor.

Jimena rolled her eyes, the speaker was none other than Franklin, please call me 'Frankie', Winston. Winston was supposedly some hotshot lawyer that had just been picked up by the firm a month ago. The man went through great lengths to irritate Jimena to no end, but unfortunately the secretary was forced to be polite. This would be his third trip down to her desk that day, and the third time Jimena was going to have to reject his requests for a date.

"Mr. Winston," She said through gritted teeth, wiggling her mouse to make it appear as if she were doing something, hoping he'd take a hint. "May I assist you with something?"

Winston flashed an abnormally white smile, "No, but I could assist you."

Jimena groaned and pressed her hand against her face, "I'm going to regret asking this, but assist me how?"

He grinned, "I can't help but notice how lonely you seem, working up here all by yourself, and I was wondering if having a nice dinner at my place could make you feel less isolated."

Jimena snorted, "You're going to have to try harder than that." She mumbled, returning back to her riveting game of solitaire on the computer.

Winston laughed, "I see, you're the type that likes to be romanced," He gave a rather cheesy wink.

"I doubt how I could ever be lonely, Mr. Winston, when I'm frequently," She trailed off, trying to find the appropriate word, "interrupted by you." She narrowed her eyes, "Don't you work here or something?"

He gripped the chest of his expensive three-piece suit, "Ms. Castillo, you wound me." He chuckled, "But you are right, and I'm afraid I came down here on account of business not pleasure."

Jimena grimaced, "Don't tell me Hans wants his files organized again."

Winston smirked, "No, I'm actually afraid that there's someone who wants to talk to you down in the lobby."

Jimena arched an eyebrow, "Really? Who?"

He shrugged, "Apparently a police officer named something Jacobson." He looked at her, "Gruff guy, burly manly-man, surly demeanor, ringing any bells?"

Jimena shook her head slowly, taking off her wire-rimmed glasses and pinching the bridge of her nose, "What does he want?"

"Didn't say," Winston said nonchalantly.

Jimena pushed back her chair and looked at the time on her computer screen, "Will you tell the partners I'm going on my break?"

"Anything for a beautiful woman," He chirped.

Jimena grit her teeth, "Winston?" She asked with a syrupy sweetness.

His eyes widened in hope, "Yes Ms. Castillo?"

"Get back to work or I'll file a sexual harassment suit."

For a moment he looked crestfallen, but the look was quickly replaced with the mischievous smirk, "You only reject because you're playing hard to get."

Jimena heaved a sigh, "Whatever gets you through the day, Winston." She walked towards the elevator, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go talk to a cop."

"So I'll call you?" She heard called after her as the elevator doors slowly opened and she stepped inside.

Jimena gave Winston a rather professional-looking middle finger before the doors closed, to which he gave another throaty laugh.

Jimena's heels clicked sharply against the heavily polished marble floor as she crossed the rather decorative lobby. The receptionist, named Aleesa, gave her a friendly smile to which Jimena returned, but it was rather feeble, as she was attempting to quell all the thoughts that went about her head as she tried to recall a reason why she would need to talk to a cop.

Her eyes scanned the area, and saw a rather imposing figure standing near the revolving doors of the building. Although he was in plainclothes, wearing a worn leather jacket, khaki pants, and a flannel button-down shirt, his stance, and the way he constantly observed the lobby screamed 'cop!'. His face was ruddy, which implied a drinking problem, and he had a severe five 'o clock shadow. His eyes appeared sun-strained, and he had crow's feet branching out, his mouth was in a perpetual frown.

Jimena walked over, mustering up the slightly arrogant stature and calm that she had used when she had been interrogated by the cops when she was younger. She walked up next to him and extended her hand, "Officer Jacobson, I presume?" She asked crisply.

He nodded, though a slight look of surprise crossed his features, "Yes, how'd you know I was a cop?" His voice was scratchy and rough.

Jimena gave a foxlike grin, "I've had a lot of experience in…federal matters. You simply look like a cop."

"Hmph," He grunted, trying to show he was unimpressed, "So I take it you're Mrs. Killingsworth then?"

Jimena flinched slightly, "Actually, it's just Ms. Castillo now." She paused, "May I ask why you wanted to talk with me?"

He inclined his head, his eyes calculating, "Yes, I understand you're the guardian of a Ms. Riley Zalank?"

Oh no. Jimena froze slightly, "Is she alright?" She asked, worry gripping her chest.

Jacobson slowly pulled out a notebook and pencil from the inside of his jacket, "That remains to be seen," He paused, looking at her, "I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions Ms. Castillo." He asked in a tone that implied he wouldn't take no for an answer.

Jimena narrowed her eyes shrewdly, "What's this all about?" She demanded, immediately on the defensive.

He licked his thumb and flipped open the notepad, "There was a hit and run this morning, involving a Mr. Todd Towlen, a Ms. Imy Ormond, and your daughter."

Jimena corrected on impulse, "She's not my daughter," she trailed off as the implications of his words hit her, "Are Imy and Riley hurt!"

Jacobson indicated to a few chairs, "Perhaps you ought to sit down for a bit, Miss." He demanded.

Jimena numbly sat in the cheaply upholstered chair, "What the hell is going on?"

He flipped back a few pages to his notes from when he had interviewed Ms. Ormond, "The hit and run occurred at approximately 9:30 am, at the intersection of Wilshire Boulevard, and Perrin Street. A Mr. Todd Towlen was driving, when he was suddenly cut off by some undetermined black sports car, which had run a red light. To avoid hitting the car, he swerved his vehicle into a nearby telephone pole." He looked up at Jimena who was sitting there stoically, "The speed of the collision was about 40 to 45 miles per hour. Neither Mr. Towlen or Ms. Ormond were wearing seat belts at the time."

Jimena paled, and felt as if she were about to be sick, she vaguely remembered Riley's friend, Twiggy, but Imy was one of her Daughters of the Selene, whom she was sworn to protect and guide. "What about Riley?" She croaked.

"Riley was fortunate and was wearing her seatbelt at the time of the collision," He said, reading off of his prior notes, "She suffered a mild abrasion to the head and eleven stitches to her leg, she was out in under an hour." He glanced at her, "She had an insurance card on her, but you'll still be needed at the hospital to sign some papers."

Jimena nodded mutely, "What about Imy? And Todd?"

The intensity of Jacobson's glance increased, making Jimena slightly uncomfortable, "Now the interesting part." He flipped a page yet again, "When we arrived at the hospital to investigate the crash, we discovered that Ms. Zalank had already left the premises." Jimena gripped her armchair, "Have you heard from her?"

Jimena shook her head, "I've been working all day." She whispered, "Do you have any idea of where she could be?" She questioned.

Jacobson sneered, a sour look appearing on his features, "We've asked several people, but no one has heard from her, she's simply vanished."

Jimena swallowed a hard lump in her throat, fearing for the worst.

"Now, I understand that Ms. Zalank was close friends with Ms. Ormond, correct?" He asked.

Jimena nodded, "They grew up together."

"I see," He scribbled something down in his notes, "And how long has Ms. Zalank been in your care?"

"About two months."

He looked up from the paper, seemingly evaluating her, "And how did Ms. Zalank come to be in your custody?"

She tried to ignore the acidic feeling in her stomach, "I was good friends with her mother."

"Uhm-hum." He said, scribbling away, "And her name?"

"Cassandra Zalank," Jimena began to feel irritated.

"I see," There was a moment of silence between the two, as they each tried to intimidate each other. Finally, Jacobson cleared his throat, "Ms. Castillo, do you or Ms. Zalank have any enemies?"

Her eyes widened and she bit back a laugh. Enemies? Her, an ex gang member and the Magna Mater of the Daughters of Selene? Mentor of a group sent to destroy an underground army of pure evil? Riley? Daughter of Cassandra and Selene? She wanted to break into hysterics at such a ridiculous question, instead she calmly said, "Possibly."

"Yes or no, Ms. Castillo."

"Then yes, we do." She looked at him, "Why do you ask?"

He cleared his throat, "This isn't going to be easy to hear."

She snorted, her whole life had been a series of bad news, "I'll manage."

He turned to yet another page in his notebook, "Our people went to the scene of crash this afternoon, and they just got back to the stations with the results, property damage, etcetera." He ran a hand through his hair, "But someone noticed something interesting with the tire tracks of the car that did the hit." He paused, for dramatic effect, and Jimena had to withhold the urge to throttle him, "The tire tracks weren't simply running a red light, Ms. Castillo, they were aiming for the car in the intersection."

She inhaled sharply, "You're saying-"

"I'm saying that Mr. Towlen, Ms. Ormond, and Ms. Zalank were victims of attempted intentional vehicular manslaughter." He said matter-of-factly. He was quiet for a moment, letting it sink in, "It gets worse." He replied.

"Worse?" Croaked Jimena in disbelief.

He nodded, "The tracks were compatible to the tire tread of a custom-made '06 Ferrari Kei, an extremely expensive car that's only in stock in California at the Ferrari dealership located off of Lemay Avenue in downtown L.A." His eyes scanned the page, "When we asked the dealership, they said that the had only sold three of those models, and only one of them in black." He cleared his throat, "Ms. Castillo, the bill of sales for this car was in the name of Cassandra Zalank."

Jimena clutched her chest. Cassandra? Trying to kill her own daughter? This was simply out of style for the Atrox; they were manipulative, killing their victims emotionally before they robbed hope from them. To attempt to blatantly kill a Daughter of the Moon, in the public eye, was ludicrous.

"There's still a lot more to be sorted out, Ms. Castillo," He said, standing up and tucking his notepad back into his pocket, "But I ask that you find Ms. Zalank and keep a close eye on her," He looked at her with suspicion, "As soon as I get more facts uncovered, I will be calling. Something's not right with this case. Something abnormal." He stood up, "Good day, Miss."

Jimena sat in the chair, too stunned to muster a reply. Her eyes drifted to the glass revolving doors as she watched Officer Jacobson leave. The crisp night air entered the room for a moment. He was painfully close to uncovering their secret, and Jimena couldn't allow that.

Fear thudded in her heart, Riley had disappeared, and Cassandra was out for either her or Imy's blood. She slumped against the back of the chair. Her Daughters were in danger, and for the first time in a long time, she felt powerless.


	12. 8 Interlude: prt III Informed

Night's Children: Nox Noctis

**AN: **Someone asked me who my favorite character in this story was, and the ones that stick out the most are Officer Gordon Jacobson and Twiggy. My favorite character to write is Aria though. Lol anyone who's read my prior stuff knows who my favorite cannon character is :squee Tymmie fangirl: Sorry this chap is so short in comparison to the other two.

**Sidenote: ** I was considering writing a small off-shot of this series, focused on Trysten, Lance, and Art, and how they came to be free of the Atrox, more character background/development, etc. Would anyone be interested in reading it?

Disclaimers are redundant on this site

**Chapter Eight: Interlude**

**Part Three: Informed**

Trysten sighed as he untied the back of his puke green barista's apron and hung it gingerly on a coat hanger. He was dead tired, after working a double shift on almost no sleep. He had Tymmie to thank for that.

Something tonight unsettled him; there was this odd tingle in the air. It took Trysten a few moments to discover that it was the presence of the Atrox, and it was much stronger tonight.

His thoughts once again drifted to that morning's encounter, and more specifically, on a pale-eyed, maroon haired girl. Her situation was painfully similar to his, and he found himself feeling a great deal of sympathy for Riley. She had handled the news much better than he had when Trysten had first found out he was one of the Atrox's chosen ones.

He barely knew her, yet he felt connected to her, in a way similar to the connection he shared with 'Art' and 'Lance.' Riley was someone who he could relate to, and he treasured people like that. He treasured it so much that he broke a solemn oath he had made five years ago to avoid the Atrox in order to save her and her fellow Goddesses.

It had hurt when her response to this was to basically ignore his existence. But eventually, he had come to terms with the fact that she hadn't exactly understood where he was coming from, or his intentions. He would have to earn her trust, and he was ok with that.

He was beginning to wonder if he had a crush on her.

He sighed and turned back to cleaning his workstation from coffee grounds and spilled milk. That was stupid to even consider, it would never work out, considering what he was destined to become one day.

A small tinkle of bells caught his ear, signifying that someone had entered the shop, "Sorry we're closed." He mumbled, not even turning around.

"Feh." A grunt followed as the person took a seat in front of the bar-like counter. "Are you off yet?"

Trysten turned around and faced one of his best friends, 'Lance E. Lot'. He mentally groaned when he thought of his and Art's pseudonyms. They were so obviously false, yet no one had ever seemed to pick up on them. "Just closing," He said, his voice in its almost constant graveness, "Where's Art?"

Lance sighed, "Moping around over Imy still, most likely."

Trysten gave an understanding nod. Of the three, Art had taken the rejection of his beloved Imy and the fellow Daughters the hardest. He was having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that Imy didn't trust him, and that she thought of him as a liar and a Follower of the Atrox.

"I worry about him," Lance continued, his long discarded accent flickering through his speech as emotion got the better of him.

"Me too." Trysten agreed, there was a pause, "Can you feel it?" He asked quietly, referring to the unnaturally strong aura of the Atrox.

Lance nodded, "That's why I came down here, actually. I was hoping you knew what it was about."

Trysten shook his head, "The only communication I've had with the Atrox is the dreams Tymmie keeps sending me."

Lance drew his eyebrows together in thought, "Is there any difference in them lately?"

"No. I always see the same thing. My father stepping into the flames, followed by my mother." His voice was clipped, even, "Then the both of them asking me to join them."

"Hmph," Lance grunted, his fingers tracing the edge of the table, "I remember…" His voice trailed off as he looked Trysten in the eye, he swallowed, "I remember I felt a faint increase of its powers when we rescued Riley, Imy, and the other two, but I haven't felt the Atrox's aura this strong since I was a Follower, when the Atrox crossed over one of the Daughters of the Moon, your mother."

Trysten gnawed on his lower lip, contemplating. "You believe that they're going to cross over one of the four tonight?"

Lance shrugged, "It's possible. The Atrox has been playing low for a while now, the night where they almost got Riley and Imy was the first show of power it's demonstrated in years." He sat in deep thought, "Now that Lambert's the new leader of the Followers, things will be more calculated, less rash, and more subtle." He placed a hand under his chin, "I've been involved with the Atrox for over fifty years, and I've never seen anything like this." He ran a hand through his black hair, sighing. "You'd think that after being a high-ranking Follower, and a slave at Nefandus, I'd have a clue as to what the Atrox is planning."

Trysten shook his head, "Times have changed since you've been liberated. Lambert is the new avatar for the Atrox's power, and Tymmie looks like a shoe-in for the next Prince of the Night." He slumped against a wall, "We've tried so hard to evade this damn war but it keeps finding us."

Lance gave a small smile, "Correction, you've been trying so hard to hide from the Atrox. As far as Art and I are concerned, we're dead to it. The Atrox lost interest in me after I failed to cross over your mother, and Art's greatest accomplishment was that he was a servant to a member of the Incinti." He looked at Trysten, "You on the other hand are the son of the Atrox's chosen prodigy and The Key. You know that the Atrox's been after you ever since it discovered you existed, you have the potential to become one of the most powerful Followers in existence. After all, you possess inherited telepathy." He sighed.

Trysten felt like he had just swallowed something very bitter, "I will never turn." He stated simply.

Lance gave him a look of sympathy, "It's easy to say, much harder to do. We both know that." He paused, collecting his thoughts, "I believe that tonight, the Atrox is going to cross over at least one of its two chosen ones. There's you, the Lectus, and then there's Riley, the Lecta."

Trysten groaned and slumped into a chair adjacent from Lance's, "What I don't understand is why they would choose Riley." He looked at the ceiling, "After all, Cassandra isn't one of the more powerful Followers; she was even outcasted for a time."

Lance pursed his lips, "Did you ever consider her power?"

Trysten scratched his head, "Empathy? Why would the Atrox want to utilize that? It's virtually the same as telepathy."

"Think about it. The ability to sway people's feelings, or to even eliminate them completely." He sent Trysten a meaningful look, "The exact thing the Atrox is trying to achieve. She could even have the power to erase the Atrox's thirsty need for hope, replace the feeling with something else." He shook his head, "And there's the fact of who her father possibly is…."

Trysten snorted, "Don't tell me you're buying into the rumors?"

Lance opened his mouth as if to say something, but he was cut off as his cell phone began to ring. He picked up the phone from his pocket, and answered it, "Salut?" He asked. There was a pause, "Alright, we'll be right over."

Lance hung up the phone and looked at Trysten, "Apparently Art's having some type of crisis at home." He muttered.

"Did he say of what type?" Trysten asked Lance.

Lance shook his head, "He sounded frantic though, we should hurry and get over to the apartment."

Trysten nodded, and dug his keys out, "Let's go then."

Trysten drove like a bat out of hell, running about three lights and going fifteen miles over the speed limit to get to the apartment building. Art was hardly one to freak out over insignificant details, and judging the feeling in the air tonight, something horrible had to have happened.

Trysten skidded to a stop in front of the building, parking illegally in a handicap spot. Lance bolted out of the passenger's side, and ran over to buzz on the intercom. Trysten took the key out of ignition and quickly followed him.

"We're here." Lance said, pressing down on the button.

There was no response, but there was a clicking noise as the door opened. Lance and Trysten shot each other a glance, but both quickly climbed the five flights of stairs to get to their apartment door. Lance knocked loudly, "Art! Open up!" He commanded.

The door slowly creaked open, revealing a severely disheveled Art, but not the rest of the apartment. "You guys are slow as hell!" He muttered, obviously paranoid and irritated, not the greatest combination.

"What's going on?" Trysten asked, level-headed as always.

Art sighed and opened the door the rest of the way, "We have a problem."

The two peered inside the apartment, to see an exhausted Imy sprawled across the coach. Her arm was in a sling, and she looked like she was having trouble breathing. Her golden eyes lit up when she saw Trysten and Lance, "Thank the Goddess." She mumbled, heaving as she forced herself up, "We have a problem, Riley's missing."

Trysten let out an uncharacteristic, "Oh shit." As silence filled the room.


	13. 9 But Words Will Never Hurt Me

_Night's Children: Nox Noctis_

**AN: **I was just wondering, for the next installment of Night's Children, would you like an Imy point of view, or an Aria point of view? Also, I've decided to do the background story for Lance, Art, and Trysten.

Aria, Riley, Tessa, and Tymmie are back! Yay!

Sorry this chap jumps around a lot….QQ. The chapters will alternate between Imy, Trysten, Art, Lance, Jimena, and Gordon to Riley, Tymmie, Tessa and Aria.

**Disclaimer (Sort of): **I understand I own nothing. Nothing, nein, zip, rien. The site even says that blatantly, but I'd like to call attention to the fact that not I only do I not own DOTM, but I also don't own _Grease_ or Suzy Highschool…if that is in fact a real person

**This Chap: **The two hotheads have a showdown! Oooo…… And Riley discovers something about herself, much to the surprise of Tymmie. And a rather…anti-climatic battle with a group of Followers

**Chapter Nine: …But Words Will Never Hurt Me**

Tessa scrambled frantically up and down the mall, trying to desperately locate her friend, whom she had promised to protect. "Shit." She muttered, raking her fingers through her blonde hair. "Shitty shitshitshit!" She swore, her eyes peering from faceless person to faceless person. Where the hell was Riley!

Tessa seriously felt the need to run her head into a nearby wall a few times, trying to clear her mind from all the chaotic ramblings in her head. She had nerve-wracking guilt, and hoped Riley hadn't been destroyed or crossed over by Followers. She chewed the inside of her cheek, days like today she craved alcohol or ecstasy. And though she hated to admit it to the other Daughters, she did occasionally pop a few pills on the weekends, as a way to cope. She wasn't exactly clean, but she was trying; yet the frustrations of being a Daughter of Selene only made her want to jump right back into her old bad habits.

She growled in frustration, Riley was nowhere to be found. She stormed off towards the bathrooms, she craved something, and she had a few pills in her purse left over from last night at the RockOut. She sauntered over to the bathroom, and checked to make sure no one was in the area, then fished around in her purse.

She managed to pull out a small Tylenol bottle, and from there she withdrew two pills, decided against it, and put one back in. She looked at herself in the mirror, sighing, "Just to clear my head." She told herself, "That's all." She was beginning to break into a cold sweat, and her hands were shaking. "Just one." She whispered, she turned on the faucet to get some water to swallow it down, and was about to take her drugs when she heard a distinct thud come from one of the stalls. She quickly tossed the pill on the floor, hoping it wasn't someone who knew what she was doing.

"Ugh…" Came a whinnied pang from behind the door, "I'm gonna **kill** Riley." The voice muttered.

Tessa raised an eyebrow and carefully crossed over to the stall door and gently pushed it open, "Aria?" She asked incredulously, "What are you doing here?"

Aria sent her a look of pure acid from her place on the floor, where she had fallen after Riley's fatigue spell ended, "Just enjoying the scenery, you?"

"Shopping." Tessa quickly bit out, her eyes unwillingly went over to the spot on the floor where the small pink pill was, and her physical aching increased, but she willed her attention back over to Aria.

"Whatever." Groaned Aria, hoisting herself off of the floor, "I know why you're here, so you can cut the crap, where's Riley?"

Tessa bit her lip, "She…lost me in a crowd."

"What!" Snapped Aria.

"I don't know where she is," Responded Tessa.

"Super. Awesome. Life is wonderful," Aria grunted.

Tessa sent her a curious glance, "What happened to you? You look like you have the hangover from hell."

Aria sent her a glare that could have killed puppies, "Riley kindly used her powers to give me a little break in this fabulous mall's bathroom stall."

"Why would she have done that?"

"What's with all the damn questions?" Aria countered, then sighed, "I tried to convince her not to go after Cassandra."

Tessa inclined her head, "So she knocked you out!" She asked, confused, "That doesn't sound like Riley."

She sighed, "Not exactly, she made me feel so tired that I couldn't move."

"That's it," Tessa questioned, awed, "No offense intended, but that sounds like a rather lame attack to fall unconscious to." She knew that a small part of her inner voice was looking for an opportunity to goad Aria, she didn't mean to, but it provided a momentary relief from the pounding ache in the back of her head that she knew only drugs could fill.

Aria fumed, "Well it's not like I was expecting it!"

Tessa shrugged, "Whatever you tell yourself."

"It's the truth!" She defended.

"I'm sure it is," Tessa said nonchalantly, "I believe you." She stated in a tone that clearly implied that she didn't. Aria was getting more and more irritated by Tessa, she didn't like her, she really didn't like any of the other Daughters, so the last thing she wanted to do was to loose control in front of her, but she just…got on her goddamn nerves.

"Arg! Enough of this, I've got to make a call," Aria muttered darkly, digging around her handbag until she found her beloved cell phone.

"Who're you calling at a time like this?" Tessa demanded, "A social call isn't exactly important." She snarled, belittling her.

Aria gnawed her lower lip in irritation, refusing to give Imy an answer as she dialed the number and held the phone up to her ear, plugging her other ear with a finger, effectively blocking out Tessa's interrogation.

Tessa's eyes widened, "Excuse me!" she snapped, angered at her rudeness.

Aria cut her off with a hand, "Hello Mrs. Ormond, is Imy there?" She asked politely as Tessa let out a snort of air, sounding vaguely like a bull about to charge. There was a pause, "I see…No, I'm really sorry I haven't seen her today. Yes, I'll be sure to give you a call if I see her…I understand…No, she didn't seem upset the last time we talked…I'm really sorry again, good luck." She snapped her phone shut. "Son of a –" she seethed, kicking the toilet. She let out a frustrated sounded yelp and pulled on piece of her hair.

Tessa said nothing, her anger dissipating for a moment. She slumped slightly against the bathroom counter, "First Riley, now Imy." She shook her head, "We're screwed."

"Thank you, Ms. Optimist," Aria snarked, "Your enthusiasm rivets me." She deadpanned.

The brief moment where Tessa was calm quickly disappeared, for Aria irritated her unlike anyone she had ever met, "Well what the hell are we supposed to do? Riley and Imy are both missing in action!"

"You don't know the half of it," Aria mumbled, "Imy shouldn't be anywhere right now other than at home in bed. Her shoulder was dislocated and she had I believe three bruised ribs." She snorted and rolled her eyes, "No wonder her and Riley get along so well, they're both idiots. Stupid, reckless, moronic-"

Tessa's temper flared up like wild fire, her patience finally snapping, after all, she had a migraine from hell and Aria was pushing all the right buttons, "How the hell would you know? You're never around!" she accused.

Aria grit her teeth, knowing it was true but refusing to admit it. Couldn't Tessa see she was taking precious time out of her Saturday night to ensure Riley didn't go kamikaze on the Daughters? "I'm here now, aren't I?" She defended.

"So what? One night every two months? That's complete bullshit." Tessa spat, she had never really talked to Aria other than the few odd meetings at Jimena's apartment, but from what she had heard, Aria wasn't exactly one to commit.

Aria snorted, "Where do you come off bossing me around? I'm the one who saved your ass two months back!"

Tessa's eyebrows shot up, "It wasn't you! It was those three guys!"

She rolled her eyes, "Fine. But the point still stands that you were the first one almost crossed over. Not me." She muttered something under her breath that Tessa barely caught.

When she heard the statement she froze, rigid anger coursing through her. The fact that her body was desperately craving the drugs it had been denied didn't help to improve her temperament, and something within her finally snapped.

Tessa walked over to her, her footsteps making a heavy, echoing sound. "Say that again." She spoke coldly.

Aria glared at her, her light brown eyes blazing like liquid amber, "I said that you're the druggie who almost got Imy, Riley, and myself killed that night."

Tessa made a fist and was about to pummel her, but she used the tiny store of control that she still had left and placed her hand in her pocket, she grunted, "Y'know, I may be an addicted screw-up, but at least I'm not some stuck-up bitch who's too good for her sisters." She grabbed the Tylenol bottle once again and dumped out a pill, which she swallowed dry, "You're not even worth my fist." She growled, throwing the empty bottle in the bathroom's trashcan and leaving.

Aria stared at the door, bewildered as she watched her go, for once out of words to say.

OOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Riley tried desperately not to heave the moment her feet touched solid ground. She clutched her stomach and sank to her knees, her eyes watering and her head spinning. She felt like she had just gone a million times on a Tilt-a-Whirl ride. "We are never doing that again." She spoke in labored breaths.

Although Tymmie was to her back, she could practically hear the smirk in his voice, "Aw, little Goddess can't handle transforming into shadow?" He placed a firm hand on the back of her shirt, picking her up and forcing her to stand. He didn't do it roughly, but the amount of force implied that he was not messing around. "I thought you were tougher than that."

Riley ground her teeth together, and applied her empathy powers on him, making him feel her nausea. Her mouth gave a grim smile of satisfaction when he gripped his head and clenched his stomach. She looked at him, and sent him a look, one that clearly said he should shut up unless he wanted to feel that way the rest of the night. With a brief wave of her hand, the pain left him quickly, and Tymmie for once, held his tongue.

"You're a lot harsher than I gave you credit for," He stated, "I was under the impression you were the nice one of the new group."

Riley gave a small defeated sigh, for a moment feeling ashamed of her actions. Sending the pain to Tymmie had been a low blow, "Sorry," She mumbled, "But when one is functioning on less than three hours of sleep at night, they tend to get cranky."

She felt his long fingers reach across her back and squeeze her opposite shoulder. Riley froze, terrified of the physical contact, "Little Riley having night terrors again?" He pouted, oozing fake sincerity, "But then again, that's why you're here, isn't it?" He purred.

Riley jerked away from him quickly, hating physical contact with anyone, never mind a perverted Follower of evil incarnate, "Where are we?" She asked, looking around and taking in her surroundings.

They appeared to be in some kind of loft. The air was dirty and dusty, the floors and walls were bare, and cobwebs had clustered in the corners. There appeared to be no furniture other than an ancient coffee table, a second-hand couch, and a mattress on the floor with a plaid comforter and yellowed pillow. Oddly enough, there was a stuffed teddy bear on it that was missing its right eye and was wearing a shockingly pink colored bow tie.

Tymmie gave a wolfish grin, "My place."

Her eyes widened and she took a step away from him, her jaw clenched and she felt herself go rigid with anger, "What are you trying to pull?" She demanded, trying eagerly to keep an open mind and remain patient.

Tymmie snorted and sat down on the sofa, "Relax dea, believe it or not, I'm not trying to pull anything." He rose both his hands in a signal of surrender. Riley quirked an eyebrow but said nothing. "This is just a place for you to hang while I go talk to the big man." He stated.

Riley's eyes narrowed, "Why is there a need to go talk to the 'big man?' I came here to talk to my mother." She crossed her arms, trying to look defiant despite the fact that her heart was thudding in her ribcage, and she felt like she was going to jump out of the window in severe desperation, "Only her." Her voice, which she had attempted to sound courageous, came out no more than a meek whisper.

He spoke slowly, seemingly patronizing her, "Believe it or not, little Riley, having a Daughter of Selene, our most hated enemy, willingly come over to our side is a pretty big deal."

"I'm not coming over to your side," She said rationally, "I have no intentions of ever coming over to your side."

His mouth twisted, "Then why aren't you wearing your trinket?"

Her hand absently went to her neck and she felt heat rise to her face, "I, um, lost it."

Tymmie chuckled, "Daughters can't loose their necklaces, Riley, they must be taken off."

"The fact that I'm not wearing my amulet doesn't mean that I'm weak enough to join you." She said coldly.

Perhaps it was what she said, or how she said it, but he suddenly leaned forward, close enough to Riley that she could smell his breath, and his steely eyes were locked onto hers, "You think you know yourself so well, don't you Riley?" He demanded, his voice tight and controlled, a dark aura omitting around him.

Riley became rooted to the spot. This wasn't a side to Tymmie she had ever seen, the emotions that normally floated around him were cut off; he was actually using his power to conceal them. Normal Tymmie was lecherous, manipulative, and a pain in the ass. This was different; this was lethal, deadly, and sinister. His mouth was set in a grim line, and his eyes drilled into hers.

Another thing was the closeness between the two. Of all the things Riley hated in the world, it was physical contact she deterred the most. His towering over her made her feel weak and helpless, he was in control of the situation, not her, and that was terrifying.

Closeness had always made her uncomfortable, even with Imy. Perhaps it was a side effect of her powers, as she felt everything the people around her felt, or perhaps it was just a psychological fear, but whatever it was, she hated being near anyone. Tymmie had to have known that, he was a mind-reader- the constant hugs, squeezes, and leering had been his way of getting through to her, of cracking her stony defenses, she realized that now.

Her eyes widened, and she attempted to back away, but Tymmie gripped her bicep, "Get away from me." She spoke softly, not wanting to upset this now dangerous side.

He ignored her, continuing his previous statement, "I thought I knew myself well too. I thought I was a good person. I thought I knew right from wrong." He sneered, "The Atrox changed all that, I discovered what a truly horrible person I am. I witnessed myself and others degrade themselves for power, I've seen people kill. I've killed. I've killed to feed this awful, aching hole inside of me that we all have. I've wanted to die; I've even pulled the trigger of a gun that was pointed at me. But that's the curse of Immortality, I came back." He paused, "I've watched people who claimed to be loyal to each other until their deaths betray the other because the Atrox willed them to. I've listened to blood-curling screams at night then realized they belonged to me."

He ran an ice cold finger down the side of her face, and she had to resist the urge to flinch as though it were a slap, "Don't even act like you know what I am Riley, don't even pretend you have any idea what you're dealing with," His grip on her arm tightened and Riley bit her lip, "You're the weak one here. You hide from your darkness, pretend it doesn't exist when we both know it does. You don't even know what side you're playing for." His grip loosened, "I know what I am Riley, do you?" His tone held a dark finality to it.

Riley looked at him, still gnawing on her lower lip. Tymmie lost control over his emotions when he spoke to her, broadcasted them even, and now Riley was bombarded with the feelings of malice, depression, anger, and overall, hurt. She blinked, the closeness between them still unsettling. She could feel his every pain, every frustration. But more importantly, she began to realize that his emotions matched hers exactly after she had seen her mother. She recognized that stabbing pain of betrayal that echoed through her chest, she had felt hatred even…she had been willing to kill her mother before she let her even try to hurt her friends ever again. She recalled that inner darkness inside of her when she had ripped Selene's amulet from her neck and threw it on the floor of the hospital's waiting room. She remembered the hatred she had felt towards herself. She had been powerless to protect what meant most to her. She had been weak, pathetic. She had always been weak and pathetic.

She exhaled, thinking carefully over her words. She wanted to be the ideal Daughter of the Moon, she wanted to be good, and she wanted to help people in a way that she could never help herself. But the question was more concentrated on whether or not she could.

"I know that I don't know." She finally admitted, gently prying his fingers off of her arm and releasing his grip, then slowly backed away from him.

Tymmie gaped at her in bewilderment as she stood there, cradling her arm that he had gripped like a wounded animal, and he momentarily felt regret for holding her so hard. Her eyes weren't staring at her feet like they usually were, but meeting his. The pale gray of them reflected in the moonlight, and they shined like stars. For the first time Tymmie had ever seen her, she truly looked like a goddess, her pale skin ethereal; her stance calm and ready for whatever he had to give. She looked deadly, she looked beautiful, and all she did was stand there in stony anticipation, patiently awaiting his response.

This time, it was Tymmie's turn to shirk away. He lowered his eyes to the ground, his black hair creating a curtain around his face. She was different than he had originally thought. She had proven that when she admitted to her faults, her uncertainties. Most Daughters he had talked with were so self-righteous it was sickening, for they were so convinced that they were pure good, incapable of doing any harm. Even Serena, the Witch Goddess, had that same air about her. But not Riley, not the daughter of Cassandra, Cassandra who had also carried that sickening conceited opinion of herself, except she thought she was strong and cruel, whereas the Daughters thought they were always kind and honest.

Well, they certainly hadn't been kind to the Followers, he thought bitterly.

He wanted to say a lot of things at that moment, he wanted to ask a lot of questions, and to hear a lot of answers, but in the end all he did was slowly shake his head and let out a humorless chuckle, "That's a start dea, that's a start."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Tessa stormed out of the bathroom in a rage she hadn't felt in ages. She rudely shoved passed all the mothers and their children, passed all the snotty kids with their daddy's cell phones, passed all of her problems.

She hoped the ecstasy would kick into effect soon- she wanted to forget that rather unfortunate brawl with Aria. It wasn't so much that what she said was demeaning, but more that Tessa had lost control of her emotions, flying off of the handle as soon as her issues were brought up. She had almost hit her, that's what worried her the most. Tessa may be a bitch when it came down to battles with words, but she would never hit anyone. She had always felt that physical blows were the worst way to win an argument.

She walked into a side hall of the mall, deserted as it was in the middle of reconstruction. She leaned her head back against the wall, sighing as she let her thoughts consume her.

Suddenly, she felt a hand grip her shoulder, startling her out of her reverie, "Lookie here, it's a dea," Came a rather oily sounding voice from behind her.

She ground her teeth, and slowly turned around, "Look asshole, I'm really not in the greatest of moods right now-" Her voice trailed off as she saw whom it was that held her. He seemed painfully familiar; his blonde hair was greased and combed back into a ducktail. He had on mirrored aviator glasses despite being indoors, and the cuffs of his jeans were folded up revealing beaten hightops. "Do I know you?" She asked, glaring.

A girlish giggle came from Tessa's side, "That's Murray, how could you forget such awful hair?"

Tessa turned towards the sound of the voice to see a girl with platinum blonde hair done up in pigtails. She had on a mini-skirt that fluffed out, reminding Tessa of a cheerleader's skirt, with a letterman's jacket over a white tube top. In her right hand was a lollipop. Her smile was innocent, but the phosphorous glint in her eyes signaled her as a Follower.

Tessa snorted, "What the hell possessed you to dress like the poster girl for teenyboppers?"

The girl let out another high-pitched giggle, "Oooh, I like this one Murray, she's feisty." She pouted, "The other new Daughters are so boring."

Murray clenched his jaw, "Shut it Kelly, no one cares." He snarled at her, "You know destroying one of the Daughters would definitely raise my ranking," He snorted, "Anything's better than having to listen to what that one jackass says."

Tessa's eyes widened as she suddenly remembered where she had seen him. He had been with the Followers two months ago when she was almost crossed over. "Oh, I remember you now, you're one of Tymmie's little minions."

Murray's eyes widened in anger and he shoved her away from him, where Kelly grabbed her arms with an unnatural strength and pinned her. She glared daggers at Murray, and he returned them, "Shut the hell up. You're outnumbered." He walked over and gripped her chin with one of his hands, and he forced her to make eye contact, "This'll only take a second."

Tessa began to stare into his eyes unwittingly, feeling herself drowned in the false promises it offered. She could see her father staying with her and her brother, not running off with his secretary, she could see her mother happy, not depressed and an alcoholic, alive. She saw her brother, not the uptight worrywart he had been forced to become, but a rambunctious, laid back guy he should've been, she saw herself-

Tessa blinked, hazy for a moment, but she turned and shifted her attention back to Murray, "You know, I'm getting really tired of Followers thinking they can cross me over all the goddamn time." She muttered, quickly wrenching herself from Kelly's grip, who had suddenly appeared immobile, and focusing on her powers.

To the unseen eye, all they saw was a teenage girl standing weird with dilated eyes, but to herself and the pair of Followers, her power crackled in a shower of gold around her as she harnessed it, "O Mater Luna," She mumbled, "Help me out."

Murray looked at her in amazement, "But how, how did you see passed the illusion?"

Tessa gave a half smile, "No one tells me who I am other than myself." She pressed her hands together, trying to focus on an illusion, "Besides, illusions are my gift."

Kelly laughed, and kicked Tessa's knees from behind, causing her to loose her footing and fall to the ground, "You've got spunk, I'll give you that," She said, still irritatingly happy, "But we've got decades of experience on you."

Tessa mentally cursed herself as she lost her focus on the summoning, her illusion shattering and the golden lights dimming. Then she suddenly groaned as Kelly sent another sharp kick, this time to her ribs, which knocked the air out of her, "Blow." She gritted, panting for breath. "You still don't like anything other than wannabes to me." She chided.

Murray looked at her with barely disguised loathing, "All of you newbies are pathetic. The past twenty odd years have presented no competition at all. All Selene's doing is only lining you up to the slaughter. But I'm not complaining, makes my job easier," He leaned down, his eyes unfocusing, "I'm going to enjoy this."

Tessa spat in his face, but tensed, waiting for the inevitable. She allowed herself a smug snort as he wiped away the saliva from his cheek in disgust. He stared at her, a fiery hatred burning through him, and she grimaced, waiting for another physical hit, or a mental one.

He looked to be harnessing his powers, and ready to strike-

"Hey!" A loud, commanding voice echoed through the halls. Murray and Kelly both looked up to see Aria, striding down the mall as if she owned the place, her amulet displayed proudly, flashing its warning colors. "The only one who gets to call Tessa pathetic is me."

Murray rolled his eyes, "Feh, hardly. I remember you; you're easily the weakest of the four. What was your so-called power? Healing, am I right?"

Her eyes narrowed into slits and Tessa watched in annoyance as she refused to back down, "What the hell are you doing?" She asked, incredulous. Who was she kidding? She was going to crush a pair of obviously more experienced Followers with healing powers!

"Saving your ass again," Aria responded matter-of-factly. "Now shut up and let me do it."

Tessa glared, "Who do you think you are? Coming in last second to act like some stupid vigilante. Give me a break, you're useless."

Murray and Kelly watched the scene with interest, neither attacking, just letting the two of them fight it out. Confusion settled over the pair as they looked at each other, each wondering if this was some sort of ill-conceived plan.

"Like you're doing a great job! Ms. Illusionist my ass!"

"I was doing just fine!" Tessa spat.

"You were on the ground about to be crossed over! Again!" Aria huffed.

"Oh go screw yourself." Tessa growled.

Kelly's look of puzzlement ended as she started to giggle extremely hard, but Murray simply stood there, absently scratching his head, his jaw hanging open slightly as he tried to comprehend what exactly was going on.

Both Tessa and Aria turned at the pair when they heard Kelly's trademark high-pitched giggling, "What!" They both snapped at the same time.

Kelly paused for a second to look at their scowling faces and rigid postures, after she got a good evaluation, she began to laugh even harder, her face turning pink from lack of oxygen. She doubled over, clutching her stomach.

"You guys…don't get along?" Murray questioned cautiously, still believing their bizarre behavior to be some sort of plan.

"No!" They both yelled at once, obviously revolted at the premise.

"She's a stoner who doesn't know where she is half of the time!" Cried Aria.

"And she's the hugest snob I've ever met!" Tessa continued, standing up from her position on the ground and pointing at her.

Murray scratched his head yet again, unsure of how to react to this situation, while Kelly's laughs had transgressed into violent hee-haws, her breathing labored and she began to snort occasionally.

"What's so funny?" Aria demanded, one hand on her hip, her irritation growing.

"It's just," Murray paused, "Normally, the Daughters are best friends. Sisters, elite teams that would do anything for each other." He shook his head. "You two look as if you're about to throttle each other in a split second." He sent them a condescending glare as a thought occurred to him, "Now that's truly pathetic. You pose absolutely zero threat if the four of you can't even work together." He shook his head, "It's not even worth the energy to convert you two."

Kelly nodded feverishly, "Like yeah. I mean, you're going to destroy each other all on your own. You don't need our help."

Tessa narrowed her eyes, "I may hate Aria, but I hate lowly Follower scum like you more." She seethed. "At least Aria's bitchyness-"

"Hey!" She protested.

Tessa cleared her throat and continued, regardless, "- is some proof of humanity. You two however are walking clichés. I mean, it's Grease and Susy Highschool," She hissed, grinding the toe of her stiletto boot into the marble floor, "You want a fight? You have one."

Both Murray and Kelly began fuming, obvious offended by a lowly Daughter of the Moon who not only hadn't mastered her powers, but was also a good few decades younger than the two of them.

Aria huffed, tensing slightly as her eyes dilated and a sky blue haze began to cloud around her, "I'm not backing down." She whispered, "I'm never going to back down again from losers like you, you can count on that."

Tessa said nothing, but gave a slight nod at her words. She noticed how her vision was starting to get hazy, and her mouth was dry. She inwardly swore, right now wasn't exactly the best time for the drug she had taken earlier to start going into effect. Her head began to feel cloudy, but she shook it off, no way was she going to loose to these two. She began to waver slightly. Shit.

Aria placed a hand on Tessa's head, a sky blue light forming under her fingertips, "Stupid druggie." She muttered as she closed her eyes in concentration.

Tessa looked at her, confused, "What are you doing to me?" She demanded.

Aria sighed, "I'm purging the drug from your system, the last thing we need is an ecstatically happy Tessa before a battle. Not to mention the dehydration." She shook her head, "There. Done."

Tessa blinked, and she instantly felt better, her mind clearer, "Hm." She said, dispassionately. She grabbed Aria's arm, "I've tried this a few times with Riley and Imy," She spoke, "Focus your powers into mine."

Aria bit her tongue, not having it in her at the moment to argue with her over the fact that she hadn't said 'thank you.' "Fine."

She closed her eyes and let her energy flow into Tessa's. She gasped slightly as she could feel the powers building around them, their powers had been increased tenfold, and she could feel the excess strength.

Tessa slowly opened her eyes and stared at a suddenly very nervous pair of Followers, she chuckled darkly, "You guys wanted a fight? You've got a fight."

And with that, she unleashed the powers of Selene against them.

Kelly and Murray both concentrated on building a barrier against the magic, but when they realized that they had underestimated the combined strength of the pair, they settled for ducking.

Unfortunately, they had also seemed to forget that Tessa was an illusionist, and they, rather anti-climatically, dove right into the oncoming attack.

After seeing the pair collapse on the ground, Tessa quickly released Aria's arm as if she had the plague, and Aria immediately backed three feet away from her.

Both of them stood there silently, staring at the two, neither of them wanting to apologize for the unpleasantries they had shared in the bathroom. Tessa settled on absently nudging Murray's leg with her boot. "He's out cold."

"So's she." Aria agreed, also kicking at the rather limp form on the ground.

They were both silent, trying to comprehend what had just happened and whether or not they were still mad at each other.

Aria was the one who finally broke the quiet, "Listen, what you said in the bathroom…" She trailed off, looking to see if Tessa was about to jump down her throat, when she didn't, she continued, "About us being sisters?" She stared at her feet, "Well, sisters don't necessarily have to like each other, right?"

Tessa nodded, "No they don't. In fact, its ok if they hate each other a little." She attempted a smile, failed, and replaced it with a wry grin, "They just need to be there for each other."

Aria gave a genuine smile, "I could do that." She spoke softly.

"Good," Tessa inclined her head, "Because right now, we need to be there for Riley and Imy." She walked over to the sprawled-eagled Murray and hunched over him slapping him, "Hey!" She yelled, "Wake the hell up!"

He stirred slightly, his gaze disoriented. When he finally realized who it was hitting him awake he backed away slightly, but Tessa grabbed the collar of his shirt.

"We're looking for a Follower named Tymmie." She inquired coldly.

Aria crossed her arms and stood behind her, "And I believe you can find him for us."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

W00t. another chap down :D in less than a month, lol, not bad ne?

**Next Up: **Imy and the Boys to the rescue! Plus, Jimena decides to help in her own way, that is, until a certain cop screws it up.

**Reviews:**

(only one this time:cries: no one loves me. !angst!)

**Shadow Goddess Akhet:**Lol,I'm glad you stuck with me! You are akin to the loyal first mate who goes down with the Capn' and says something horribly cliched before they are swallowed into the abyss... Did that make sense?Oh well. Anyways, FOUR NEW CHAPS IN LESS THAN A WEEK! WOOT! I'm veryproud of myself. Dare I...Yes, I do! Woo! You have returned! With new chapters! I'm glad you liked the Catty/Imy scene, I wasn't sure how people would react to that. Yep, I'm writing the Lance, Art, and Trysten background story right now :-) Thank you for reviewing!

Till next time!

!nym!


	14. 10 The Tainted and the Outcast

_Night's Children: Nox Noctis_

**AN:** Apparently FF has banned answering reviews. Sigh, ooplah! Little tidbit for **Shadow Goddess** however, I was wondering if you would like to read the prolog for the Trysten, Lance, and Art story I'm working on and tell me what you thought of it before I posted it? Maybe? Please?

Ps: I'm tweaking the Canon Daughters' history a bit (just a bit though)

The mysterious mystery unfolds!

**Chapter Ten: The Tainted and The Outcast**

The tension in the room was thick, seeming to have replaced the air. Trysten and Lance sat on one of their living room sofas, while Imy was sprawled across the other opposite to them, Art sitting next to her. Lance eyed Imy skeptically, and Trysten tried to process the information that she had just told them. It was Art who finally decided to say something.

"What happened?" He asked gently, his eyes full of concern for the broken goddess; "Are you alright?"

She clenched her jaw as she struggled to sit up, panting heavily, "Riley." She muttered.

Lance sighed, "We got that part, what happened to her? Where is she? More importantly, did the Atrox get to her or the other Daughters?"

Trysten looked at Imy. Her arm was in a sling, and there were thick bandages wrapped around her midsection. She was obviously in a considerable amount of agony. "What happened to you?" He asked in monotone.

She groaned, "Twiggy," At the mention of his name Art gave a disgusted snort that the other two fully sympathized with, as the trio didn't exactly get along with the surly bassist. Imy glared at them, but continued, "Riley, and I were in a little bit of a car accident this morning."

Art'sgaze widened, "Are you two alright? What are you doing out of bed?"

Imy gestured to herself with her free hand, "I have bruised a few ribs, dislocated shoulder, nothing major."

"Riley?" Trysten asked, a tremor of worry flowing through him.

Imy shook her head, "She _was_fine." She looked out to the window, "I'm not so sure about right now though."

"What do you mean?" Lance demanded, beginning to get irritated.

Imy exhaled slowly, "Cassandra was the person who caused the accident."

"Mind manipulation?" Art queried.

"She tried to t-bone our car with hers." Imy responded bluntly.

The three of them fell silent, "That's not exactly Follower style," Lance said.

"No, it isn't." Imy concurred, her eyes darkening and she gave a humorless chuckle, "As you can understand, Riley wasn't in the best of moods." She paused and swallowed, "Riley went looking for Cassandra."

Trysten shot out of his chair, "No no no…" He muttered, pacing as he ran a hand through his hair.

Lance also stood up, an urgent look in his eye "Do you have any idea where she could be?"

Imy shook her head sadly, "Is she going to be alright?" Her eyes were burning slightly, "Will you be able to help her?"

Lance gave her a cold glare, "Can you not feel the heaviness in the air?"

She nodded, absently fussing with the edge of her shirt.

"That's a sign, Imy. A sign that the Atrox is preparing to cross over one of it's Chosen." He continued. "That thickness in the air is its power gathering."

Imy looked at him in confusion, not seeing what this had to do with Riley. "So? Another new Immortal Follower, big deal."

Lance sent Trysten and Art an incredulous look, to which they both responded with a shrug. "What do you mean so?" He demanded.

"So what if it's preparing to have a Cold Fire ceremony, Riley would only be in danger if she was a…" Her voice trailed off as her face twisted in horror, realization beginning to dawn on her.

"She didn't tell you?" Trysten asked, his eyes widening in surprise. He knew Riley trusted the Goddess in front of them more than anyone else in the world, he had assumed that at least she would know. Why would Riley keep something like this a secret? He clenched his fist tightly, blanching the knuckles, as he thought about what he would of done if the situation was reversed. He resisted the urge to snort; he would have been too ashamed to admit he was the one singled out by the Darkness. Maybe he could see from Riley's perspective after all.

Imy was beginning to shake, anger starting to get a hold of her. "She knows! And she didn't tell me! How does she even know? None of this makes any sense."

Trysten bit his lip, playing with his silver hoop piercing in anxiety. "I told her earlier this morning when I saw her."

Imy was totally confused now, "Why did you see Riley? How did you know she was _Lecta_?"

He sighed, and placed his hands in his pockets, knowing that he was about to clue Imy in on his biggest secret. His biggest shame. "She came into the coffee house that I work in, and I know because I'm…_Lectus_."

Her jaw dropped. "And you didn't tell anyone why?"

He inclined his head, his auburn hair covering his face, "It's not like you were entirely trusting of us to begin with." He answered smartly.

"You see, we thought that the Atrox was preparing to cross over Trysten tonight," Art supplied. "That's why we've been keeping an eye on him all day."

Trysten's eyebrows shot up, "You've been doing what!"

Lance looked at him sheepishly, "Art and I have been taking shifts watching the coffee house." He thenmumbled, "We worry about you Trysten, after all, I know more than anyone the strength the Atrox holds."

"We didn't want you to be on your own," Art supplied.

"I'll be fine. It's not me the Atrox wants tonight." He reassured them.

"Can you be sure?" Lance asked.

Imy's face became drawn in confusion, "What do you mean? Isn't obvious? They want Riley."

"Perhaps, perhaps not." Lance continued cryptically.

Art gave a sharp intake of breath, "You mean that they're just using Riley to get to Trysten?"

At those words, Trysten immediately stopped pacing and plopped down onto the time-beaten sofa, cradling his head in his hands. There was a moment of silence between the four as they tried to process the information.

"It's possible." Imy deducted, breaking the silence. She cocked her head to one side, "But why would they want you so badly?"

Trysten looked up at her, getting direct eye contact, "It's a long story." He stated dismissively.

Imy's stubbornness returned, "It's more helpful to the situation if you share everything. The more I and the other Daughters know, the better chance we have to save Riley."

"It's none of the Daughters' business." Lance said harshly.

"My best friend may be crossed over tonight for bait to lure him," She pointed at the dejected looking Trysten, "I am making it the Daughters' business."

"Imy-" Art began to plead.

The venomous glare she sent him silenced his protests immediately.

Trysten sighed from his spot on the couch, "She has a point." He shared a glance with Art and Lance, "She could be taken because of me. This is all my fault." He muttered, "Imy atleastdeserves to know."

"You realize what the repercussions of telling her might be, don't you?" Lance asked.

Trysten nodded grimly, and exhaled slowly, "Where should I begin?"

oOoOoOoOoOo

It was an hour after the unpleasant conversation with Jacobson, and Jimena honked loudly on her horn as the traffic inched along slowly down Wilshire Blvd. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as she let out a string of violent Spanish curse words she didn't know she knew. Her eyes kept darting from lane to lane of traffic, hoping to find an opening and get out of this hellhole. Alas, no one was willing to part for her, and she was stuck bumper to bumper as she tried to contain the rage that was festering inside of her. Didn't they know that the fate of mankind was resting in her and the Daughters' hands?

Just as she was about to loose it, her cell phone rang, her left hand scrambled along for it as she kept her eyes trained to the road, as if by some miracle the traffic would dissipate into thin air. Finally, her hand clenched around it and she flipped the phone open.

"Hello?" She asked.

"Jimena!" Came a frantic voice from the other side.

"Catty?" Jimena asked incredulously, of all the times for her fellow ex-Daughter to call, she picked this one?

"Thank god I got a hold of you," Catty rambled, "I need to know, have you seen or heard from Imy?"

"_Dios_," Jimena mumbled under her breath, Imy too? "I haven't." She responded bluntly.

"Has Riley?" She asked.

"I don't know," Jimena said more gently, "I haven't seen or heard from Riley since this morning."

"Do you know about the accident?" Catty practically shrieked.

_Count to ten, Jimena_. She thought to herself, "Yes, a total jerk 'bad cop' police officer came by my work this evening."

"Do you know where the two could be?" Catty demanded, ignoring Jimena's complaints about Jacobson.

Somehow, the honest answer, that Riley and Imy were both most likely captured and possibly being tortured by hopeless Followers of Evil, didn't seem exactly soothing, Jimena thought up a suitable lie instead, "Calm down Catty, they probably just snuck out to go to a movie or something."

Catty snorted on the other line, "That's stupid Jimena, Imy knows I would let her go out, aren't you even worried about them?"

Jimena exhaled slowly, wishing, not for the first time, that Catty would be able to recall her memories like she had, "Of course I'm worried," Jimena answered, "But I also trust the girls."

"Are you saying I don't trust Imy!" Catty cried defensively.

Jimena pulled the receiver away from her head to avoid the sounds of shrieking making her eardrums bleed. "I know you trust Imy, I'm not saying that at all." She tried to state soothingly.

"It sure sounds like that's what you're saying." Catty pouted slightly.

Just as Jimena was about to let out yet another string of swears, she noticed that traffic was lurching forward, "Praise the Gods!" She proclaimed, pressing her foot against the accelerator.

"What are you talking about?" Catty questioned, obviously annoyed.

Jimena saw her apartment complex come into view, and she spoke raptly into the phone, "Look, Catty, I have to go, I'll give you a call when I hear from them."

"But-" She started.

"Talk to you later." Jimena declared, pressing the end button just as she pulled into the parking lot. She sighed, exasperated as she sagged into her seat. The phone began to ring again, and she groaned and picked it up, "Catty I told you, I've got a lot to deal with, between being interrogated by a pain in the ass cop, Riley missing, and-" She paused for a moment when she heard a grunt on the other line and realized it wasn't Catty she was talking to. Fear clenched her chest slightly, "Who is this?" She asked cautiously.

"The pain in the ass cop," Came the gruff voice that could only belong to Officer Gordon Jacobson.

She paled, "Oh, um, how did you get this number?"

"I called your work, a man named Winston gave it to me." He said, his voice hardly hiding his obvious annoyance with her.

Her embarrassment was suddenly covered with astonishment, _How did he get this number?_

"Is now a good time to talk about the earlier hit and run?" He commanded in a vaguely unpleasant tone.

"Actually no, I really need to go." Jimena stammered out.

"Now hold on just a sec-"

Jacobson's voice ended with a nice little 'click' noise as Jimena hung up the phone and immediately turned it off. The last thing she needed on top of her plate was an irritating Sherlock Holmes wannabe.

She raced out of her car, not even bothering to lock it, as her thoughts returned to the situation at hand. The Daughters were in serious trouble.

She sprinted up the flights of stairs and reached her apartment. She stood outside the door, panting heavily as she fumbled in her purse for her keys. After she finally found the correct key, she unlocked the door and shoved herself in.

For a few moments, her visitor was unnoticed, and Jimena went about her normal routine. She turned on the light and headed towards the answering machine, hoping to find a message from Riley, Tessa, Imy, or Aria. Her face fell and she became disappointed when she noticed there were none.

"I took the trouble of deleting them for you," Came a cold voice from behind Jimena's shoulder.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

"About twenty some years ago, there was a Daughter of Selene who was chosen by the Atrox to become _Lecta_," Trysten began, his voice clear and precise, "She was a Daughter given the gift of telepathy, and because of her power she was cursed to become The Key." He paused and looked at Imy, "Do you know the story of The Key?"

She seemed deep in thought, "I think Jimena's mentioned it once, but I don't remember."

"The Key is the Daughter prophesized to tilt the scales between good and evil," Art piped up, "For instance, if she crossed over she would drastically change the fate of the warto the Atrox's favor."

"I see." Was all Imy said, carefully observing Trysten as she awaited him to finish his explanation.

"She was only fifteen when she discovered her possible destiny," Trysten continued, "After she found out, the Daughter was constantly in fear of her darker side, and she always forced herself to stay as far away from Followers as she could." He paused again, "All that changed on the day she met a high-ranking Follower by the name of Stanton. Long story short, the two fell in love, but there were several obstacles in the way."

He leaned against the couch, "For one, Stanton was the Prince of the Night, the highest position a Follower can occupy, the one who will inherit the Atrox's power. Another, their relationship was forbidden on both sides of the spectrum, they were in the constant threat of Regulators discovering their relationship and killing them both."

"What does any of this have to do with you?" Imy demanded, impatience gnawing at her.

He held up a hand, "It's important to know the back story."

Lance cleared his throat, "Perhaps it's best if I cover this part?"

Trysten said nothing and merely nodded.

"Eventually, the Daughter crossed over to the dark side to be with her lover." He sighed, "However, when she entered the Cold Fire, something unexpected occurred. Something not even the Atrox had anticipated." He looked at the ground, "The Daughter's power became somewhat warped, when the Atrox tried to spread their influence over her soul, they pushed too far and her telepathy became strongly magnified."

"I don't understand." Imy muttered.

Lance also leaned back into the couch, "Hmm…think of it like Yin and Yang." He said, "The Daughter had the power of telepathy before she crossed over, and it was given to her by Selene, so it's like the white in the circle." Imy gave a grunt to signify that she was following his words, "But when the Atrox tried to gift her with it's own variety of telepathy, the black half of a circle, the two merged to create this type of…um…I suppose you would call it super telepathy." He smashed his hands together for emphasis, "But when the two powers merged together, they gave the Daughter an additional power." He fell silent, "The power to return hope to Followers."

Imy's eyebrows shot up, "How the hell did she manage that?"

Art jumped in, "It's simple really, the idea or emotion of hope rests in the mind," He pointed to his head, "By unlocking both sides of her powers, the Daughter was able to give some light to the darkness, like the small white circle in the dark half of a Yin Yang."

She gave a small gasp, "That's incredible!"

Lance nodded, "By crossing her over, the Atrox unknowingly gave the Daughter a deadly weapon against them." He paused, "The Daughter discovered her new gift shortly, and she began to free Followers from the Atrox. Low ranking ones, like Initiates-"

"Or the slaves of Nefandus." Art cut in.

"Or Followers that were Outcasted, Followers that wouldn't be missed." Lance finished, "Secretly, of course, so not to incite the Atrox's wrath. Stanton was able to help her, covering for her and lying to the Atrox when it asked for her whereabouts."

"But she obviously didn't succeed," Imy stated, "Otherwise there wouldn't be any Followers today."

Trysten shook his head, "Her and her lover were eventually discovered." He sent her a meaningful look, "The Daughter tried to heal a rather influential Follower by the name of Karyl, and an Outcast spied on her then reported her to the Atrox."

"What a bastard," Imy swore, referring to the Outcast.

A grim smile graced Trysten's features, "The Outcast has an interesting story as well, but that's not for tonight." He looked out the window, "The Atrox was so enraged that he removed Karyl's immortality and banished him. It sent its Regulators out to kill all those who had been given hope."

Her eyes widened, "That's horrible."

A pained look crossed Lance's features, "Most of the liberated Followers were destroyed, but some managed to escape the Atrox's clutches." He pointed at himself then Art, "I was an Immortal Follower whom the Daughter saved, and Art was a slave at Nefandus. We were both able to get away, and somehow we were able to keep the powers the Atrox bestowed on us."

Imy scooted away from Art slightly, "So you never were a Follower?" she asked him.

"No." Art stated grimly, "But the slaves at Nefandus endured a worse fate. I was lucky to get out when I did."

She lowered her head, "Sorry." She whispered weakly.

"It's ok." Art said gently.

Their reconciled moment was ruined when Trysten cleared his throat, insistent on finishing his story, "It's no surprise that the Atrox wanted the blood of the Daughter and of Stanton, so much that it sent all of its Immortals and Regulators out to search for them." He paused, "And for two years, it was able to find nothing. It was as if the pair had vanished off of the face of the Earth."

"However, as time progressed, a spy of the Atrox reported a rumor; that the traitorous Daughter was pregnant." He exhaled and studied his hands, "This intrigued the Atrox, the child of a Fallen Daughter and the Prince of the Night. The powers the offspring could possess were endless." He sneered, "The Atrox decided to rule out its punishment in the worst way possible; once the child was born, it was destined to become the newest incarnation of the Atrox." Silence filled the room, and Trysten was finding it increasingly more difficult to control his emotions, "The news reached the Magna Mater of the Daughters, a woman by the name of Jimena, who was once a Daughter herself."

Imy's features became the perfect poker face, but Trysten noticed that she had suddenly gripped Art's hand fiercely.

"Jimena had once been close friends with the Fallen Daughter," Lance stated, "She was even married to her brother, Collin. Even though she felt nothing but contempt for Stanton and the path that the Daughter had chosen, she was still very close to her heart." He paused, "She prayed frantically to Selene to protect the unborn child, and eventually they stroke a bargain: if the child were born a girl, it would be under the safety of the Moon, and would be raised as a Daughter." He paused, "But if it were born a boy…Selene could only offer her guidance, not her protection, and she would be powerless if the son chose to fall to the Atrox."

"So what happened?" Imy croaked out, slightly confused.

Lance exhaled, sending his long bangs out of his eyes, "The child was born a boy." He grimaced, "A close friend of the Daughter and Stanton betrayed their location, and they were found." He gave a look of sympathy to Trysten, "They were both killed slowly, to serve asan example to the rest of the Followers."

A somber feeling filled the room, as bitter memories resurfaced.

"But," Art spoke softly, "When the Regulators found the two, the son was nowhere to be found. Jimena had managed to give him to an adoption agency before they struck."

"What happened to him?" Asked Imy.

"He grew up and had a normal childhood," Trysten said, "Until his thirteenth birthday." He paused and gave a hard swallow, "That was the day a Follower found him."

"As you can see, finding the boy was a top priority on the Atrox's list," Lance picked up, "For two reasons. First, the Atrox's thirst forrevenge was unsatisfied with the death of the boy's parents, and second, because the boy was born with latent telepathy. The Atrox wanted to correct the mistake it had made with the Daughter, and it wanted to fill the boy with pure darkness and have the boy succeedhisfather as the newestPrince of the Night."

"So he sent all of his best Followers and Regulators," Art continued, "Even the Atrox's rival faction, the _Infidi_, wanted the boy for either the high reward or his potential powers."

"Eventually it was the second in command of the _Infidi_ who found him," Trysten stated, "You know him, Tymmie."

Imy suddenly felt a very bitter taste in her mouth.

"Tymmie activated his latent powers, trained him to masterthem like an older brother would," Trysten maintained, "And the little boy began to look up to him like one. They became friends, almost." His face hardened as his jaw clenched, "That is until Tymmie reported him to the Atrox, and the Atrox made the boy its Chosen One. When the boy resisted its dark callings, it sent Regulators to kill his foster family."

"The boy then felt nothing but contempt for Tymmie, he shunned him, he shunned the entire world of the Atrox. He ran away recklessly, constantly pursued by Followers and Regulators." He sighed. "He lived on the streets, and was near death when he was rescued by two unlikely heroes. A liberated Immortal Follower, and a young boy who was once a slave at Nefandus."

Imy's eyes widened as it suddenly clicked into place, she opened her mouth to speak, but Trysten cut her off once again.

"The three became brothers, they helped people from falling into the Follower's trap, much like the Daughters do now. Yet the boy never revealed himself to a Follower, he lived in constant fear of being discovered and becoming the next Prince of the Night." He licked his lips, "For five years the trio lived that way, until one night changed everything."

"The boy met a girl, a Daughter of the Moon. She had just discovered her destiny, and was not yet strong in mastering her power. The two weren't exactly friends, but the boy felt that she was one person he could relate to, the one person who understood what his life was like. She was also haunted by the shadows of her parents, and had a dark streak within her that was akin to his." He cradled his head in his hands once again, "One night, her and the other Daughters fell into a trap led by none other than Tymmie. It was then the boy had to accept his destiny in order to save the girl and her companions." He fell silent for a moment and then looked at her, "The Atrox has been trying to get to me for years, since my birth. Do you understand now why they would want me so badly?"

"Yes." Imy whispered meekly, "Does the Atrox know about your feelings towards Riley?" She said softly, fear creeping into her voice.

"It's possible." Art said, "Tymmie is the strongest mind reader the Atrox have. He would have been able to figure it out."

"Bastard." Lance swore.

Trysten shook his head sorrowfully, "Tymmie will use this as an opportunity to get to me. If not him, than surely Cassandra or any other Follower wanting to achieve a higher rank." He stood up again, "If we don't hurry, they'll more than likely get tired of waiting and cross her over before we can get to her. She's a Chosen as well, if they can't kill two birds with one stone, they'll surely push her into the Cold Fire in order to tempt me to the dark side."

Imy nodded and stood up, wobbling, "Let's go then."

Lance snorted, "Absolutely not. You're injured, you stay behind or we'll loose you as well."

Her face darkened, "That's ridiculous! My power is teleportation. Te-le-por-ta-tion. It would be _so_ easy to escape if I were captured."

Lance's eyebrow began to twitch, "You think that the Atrox doesn't know what your gift is? You don't think that they won't already have a method to prevent your escape if the occasion calls for it? Not only that, but if you over exert yourself, you could worsen your condition."

"Aria's a healer, she'll fixme upin no time." Imy retorted.

"Do you know where she is? How would she be able to fix you if you were nowhere near each other?" He quipped, irritation filling him.

"I'm not leaving Riley to those scum!" Imy yelled, loosing patience, "She's my best friend, even you ought to know something of loyalty!"

"How are you being loyal to someone if you get yourself killed?"

"You don't understand!" She huffed, throwing both her arms up in exasperation, the sudden jarring causing her shoulder to shift painfully and she gave a small whimper.

Lance approached dangerously close, eye level, "I understand what its like to be the one in Riley's position. I know what it feels like have one of your friends harm themselves for your protection. Riley doesn't need that guilt if you get yourself killed."

"I can't sit around and do nothing when her life's in danger." Imy said softly.

"I'm not asking you do nothing," Lance said, his tone much more gentle, "You can help Riley, but you can't go after her in your condition. Leave that to us." He looked at Trysten who nodded, "Contact your Magna Mater and your fellow Daughters, perhaps if Trysten and I can meet up with them we can join forces."

"What do you mean 'Trysten and I'?" Art protested, straightening in his seat.

Lance didn't even bat an eyelash, "You stay and make sure Imy doesn't do anything stupid."

"I don't need a babysitter." She huffed.

"You're acting like you do." Lance stated.

Art inclined his head, "I'll watch Imy."

"I don't need a babysitter!" She protested, louder this time.

"Good, we're off then," Lance addressed Art, ignoring her childish remarks. He gave a cautious glance at Trysten, "Are you sure you're ready for this? You know what might happen tonight."

There was no hesitation, "It's my responsibility to save Riley. It's my fault she's all mixed up in this."

Art snorted, "She's a Daughter, Trysten. She was destined to be mixed up in this from her birth."

"Still, I can't stand around and do nothing." He said, picking up a worn jean jacket from the arm of the couch. "Let's hurry."

Lance nodded, picking up a scarf from the closet, "We've already wasted enough time."

Imy opened her mouth to protest yet again, but Art clamped a hand firmly over it, "Good luck you guys. Be careful." He whispered.

"Always are." Said Trysten, giving his rare smile as the pair headed towards the door.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"What the hell are you doing here!" Jimena spat coldly as she turned and faced the woman that was previously behind her.

Cassandra smirked, her eyes portraying a silent fury from where she was sprawled out across Jimena's couch, "More importantly, why are my daughter's belongings here?"

"She lives with me now," Jimena grit out between her teeth, old memories of contempt coming to her mind from the times when she was a Daughter, "You abandoned her, remember?"

"Hospitality needs some work," She remarked,sitting up.

"Like I give a damn about being hospitible to you?"Jimenastated matter-of-factly, "Leave now. I don't want you here, Riley doesn't want you here."

"You have no right," She snarled, "No right whatsoever."

Jimena placed her hands on her hips, her stance ready to spring into action at any given moment, "No right to what?" She inquired.

"No right to place these false delusions in her head," She snapped, "Making her believe she's something better than she is, a precious Daughter of Selene."

"She was born to become a Daughter-"

"She was _born_ to become a Follower, a hopeless, twisted slave to the Atrox." Cassandra cut her off, standing up. "She's not self-righteous enough to become a Daughter of Selene." She looked at her coyly, "You can see it when you look into her eyes; you know you can. She's weak, she's impressionable, and more importantly, she was created to destroy." She ran a hand along the side of her face, "There's evil inside of her. And once she discovers it, she'll fall straight into our hands." She shook her head, "Daughter of Selene? A Goddess of the Moon? Who are you fooling, Jimena?" Her eyes flashed, "Or are you just trying to atone for your past sins?"

"Shut up." Jimena responded quickly, jerking away from her violently.

"Couldn't save Serena, now you want to save Riley? Is that it?" She laughed cruelly, "You're pathetic."

"I'm not the one who sold out her companions because she was bitter," Jimena countered, masterfully controlling the wrath that was growing within her, "I'm not the one who uses her own child as a means to gain favor with the Atrox."

"Yet isn't that what you're doing, Jimena? Using Riley as a means to gain favor with your conscience?" She chorused mockingly.

"She was chosen by Selene, it is my duty to protect her from the likes of corrupted fools like you." Jimena said crisply.

"A duty?" She scoffed, "If she is only a mere duty to you, than why do you keep her?" She spread out her arms, "Let her come home to the Atrox, to her true family."

"Who are you to sound like a concerned parent?" Jimena asked incredulously, "Who are you to act like you only want your daughter back? You treated her like shit as a child, you abandoned her when she needed you most, and then you tried to kill her with your goddamned car!"

Her face fell for a fraction of a second, but she quickly recovered, "Do not speak of matters you know nothing about," She hissed.

"I know enough." Jimena stated, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You know nothing." Cassandra murmured, and for a moment Jimena saw a look of genuine grief cross her face, but she quickly covered it with her contemptuous mask.

Jimena took a hazardous step towards her, bracing herself for a blow, "Where is she? Where have you taken her?"

"Oh, so you know she's gone?" Cassandra jeered, "My, my, Jimena, you've grown much more clever since we last met."

"Where?" She repeated, her irritation pushing through her voice.

A half grin pulled at Cassandra's mouth, "I don't know." She said simply.

Jimena's patience snapped at that moment, she grabbed her collar roughly and shoved her against the wall, "Yes you do, I know you do. Tell me before I do something you'll regret."

Cassandra rolled her eyes, refusing to be intimidated, "You think your little gangster act is going to move me?" The moonlight caught heririses through the window, and they glinted yellow, "I've been through much worse."

"I know I can't threaten you," Jimena countered, inhaling deeply, "I can smell the rot of the Atrox's immortality all over you."

She tilted her head, "Aw, you noticed. That's cute."

"Same bitchy attitude though." She commented wryly, she loosened her grip, "But you are going to tell me anyway, threats or no."

Cassandra pried her fingers off of her severely expensive shirt, "Now why would I do something stupid like that?"

Jimena stared at her, evaluating, "Because I think deep down a small part of you knows this isn't best for Riley." Her gaze hardened, "You may be the worst person I've ever met, but you can't possibly feel nothing for your own child."

Cassandra shoved Jimena away from her, the words getting the heated reaction Jimena was hoping for, "You're wrong. I feel _nothing_, I am _nothing_." She declared. "Riley is _nothing_ to me."

"That's a lie if I've ever heard one." Jimena said stonily.

"What the hell would you know? You have your hope, you have your humanity." Cassandra spat, anger making her face turn red and her features darken.

"I may have my hope, but I don't have my life." Jimena replied; her eyes still trained to her, "Everything I do, I do for Selene. My husband took my son and left me because of my destiny." She clenched her fist, bitterness beginning to take over, "We're not so different, as much as I loathe to admit it. We're both submitted to higher powers. We've both lost."

Cassandra gnawed on her lip, "Being Selene's whipping girl is nothing compared to what I live through. My life is hell, everyday is a continuous torture full of nothing but pain and misery."

"Do you want that life for Riley?" Jimena asked quietly.

Cassandra's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard,but she said nothing. A moment of awkward silence settled, as the two were both lost in their own thoughts.

"I can do nothing for my son, Cassandra," Jimena pressed on gently, "But you can do something for your daughter. Give us a chance to save her from your fate. Help us save her from becoming a slave to the Atrox." She paused again, knowing her next comment was rather bold, "I think we both know the real reason you came to the Magna Mater of the Daughters, once one of your greatest rivals." She swallowed, "You know you want Riley to be saved. You just as easily could have turned her to the Atrox without confronting me."

Cassandra slumped back down onto the couch; her fingers tangled in her hair, shrouding her face, "I've tried to save her." She muttered sorrowfully. "And I've failed."

"What?" Jimena queried in astonishment.

Cassandra glared at her, "Why do you think Riley was the only Daughter without her original necklace?"

Jimena tilted her head, confused slightly, "I don't understand."

She grimaced in distaste, "You wouldn't. Don't you realize what would have happened if the Atrox were to find my child with a moon pendant?" She shook her head, "She would have been an _Invitus_ before her infancy was over."

Jimena's eyebrows shot up, this was certainly unexpected, "Then why abandon her? Why leave her now when she needs your protection?"

She lowered her head, once again hiding her features, "I tried to desensitize myself to her, tried to avoid becoming attached. Her fate was sealed, all I could try to do was buy her some time." When she looked up, Jimena could see tears begin to well in the corners of her eyes, "When I began…" Her voice hitched, "When I began to realize the lengths the Atrox would go to get to her, I then saw there was only one way out for Riley. Only one way to avoid loosing herself like I did. Only one way to truly be free from the curse of her birth."

Jimena felt bile choking her, as much as she tried, she couldn't feel any sympathy for the woman, "So you decided to kill her." She stated.

"Yes." Cassandra whispered.

"She'll hate you, she'll never forgive you for trying to kill her or her friends." Jimena pointed out.

"Yes." Her voice was even softer.

"She might even try to kill you."

"Yes."

"Don't you realize what you've done?" Jimena yelled, fury overcoming her rationality.

"I do."

There was yet another pause and Jimena glared at her in hatred, as a revelation broke through to her, "You're going to try again, aren't you?"

Cassandra was silent for a long moment, as she looked out to the moon, wincing as its light stung her eyes, "Perhaps." She gripped her hands. "I will go to any lengths to save her from becoming one of them." She sighed, "She is _Lecta_. She will burn in the Cold Fire. After that, it will become impossible to free her from the Atrox's influence."

Jimena wanted nothing more than to punch her as hard as she could, but she restrained herself with a last ounce of patience, "Why Riley? Why is she the Chosen One?" She narrowed her eyes, "It can't be just because you're her mother, there has to be something else, something you're not telling me." She rubbed the back of her neck contemplatively, "After all, another of the current Daughters was born to Follower parents."

Cassandra shuddered, "I shouldn't tell you."

"Oh, I think you should." She returned.

Cassandra looked like the inside of her mouth tasted very bitter, "Her father." Was all she said.

"Karyl?" Jimena assumed, for he and Cassandra had dated for a few years.

A watery smile appeared on her face, "You would think so, wouldn't you?" She spoke cryptically.

"Tell me." She commanded.

Cassandra once again fell into the pattern of irritating silence as she kept wincing at the small portion of moon in the sky, after what felt like hours, she finally spoke again, "Riley is with Tymmie. That's all I can tell you." She stood up, turning her back against an irate Jimena, "I…" She trailed off, "I _hope_ you can find her before its too late." Her voice fell like a hushed whisper, "Tonight, the darkness reigns. _Abyssus abyssum invocat_, Hell calls to Hell." She warned, the Latin accented slightly wrong, but Jimena was able to comprehend her words.

"Where is Tymmie?" Jimena questioned, reaching out to grab her shoulder.

But she was a millisecond too late, just as her hand was about to make contact; Cassandra disappeared in a twirl of shadows.

Jimena stood there, feeling confused and terrified at the new information presented to her. Her eyes drifted to the sliver of moon through her bayside window, "Please, help us." She prayed quietly to herself in the darkened, and now more lonesome than ever apartment.

**OoOoOoOoOoOo**

Sorry this took a little while to get out, but as a compromise it's a longer chapter

Also sorry if it seemed like I compressed a lot of information, it was the only way I could think to write it.

Blech. This chapter was a huge irritation to write. A pain in the tookus, you might say.

Feedback always appreciated!

Thanks to my two reviewers!

**Next Up: **I actually don't have the next chap planned out…it'll be a surprise for me to!


	15. 11 As She Cries

_Night's Children: Nox Noctis_

**AN**:

This is mainly a Riley-Tymmie chap, sorry Aria-Tessa fans :( but I feel like I haven't been writing enough Riley scenes, considering this is her book and all. The other Daughters will get their turn, I swear!

**Chapter Eleven: As She Cries**

The silence was unnerving. The somewhat revelation that had just happened moments prior had left nothing but a severely uncomfortable distance between the two. Riley leaned against the windowsill, basking in the moonlight. Her eyes were trained to the sky, and she desperately tried to avoid the heavy feeling in her heart. Tonight would not end well for her, she could sense that much. The darkness was gathering in the air, and she could feel it calling to her, begging her to join it and leave behind her reserves.

Tymmie sat on a wooden crate that served as a chair in his apartment. His eyes were constantly studying Riley as she stared out of the window. Either she didn't feel his gaze, or she didn't care. More than likely it was the latter; it didn't take a telepath to discover that she had more pressing issues on her mind. Still, it irked him to go without acknowledgement, yet on the same token, he didn't want another confrontation like he had with her earlier. He might actually start to sympathize with her, and that would be bad. His thought process had been invaded by contradictions.

"Are you just going to keep gawking at me like I'm an animal in a zoo?" Riley said out of the silence, her attention not diverting from the small sliver of moon. Her voice was husky, and held a slight tremble.

"Yes." He answered honestly, propping his chin on his hand.

"Why?" She asked, unaccustomed to such attention.

"Because I don't understand you," He confessed, "And that irritates me."

"What's there to understand?" She asked, still looking out at the window, but her tone implied her confusion.

"A number of things," He responded blandly, cutting off the conversation as he turned his head towards the floor. He wasn't quite ready to admit to her what made her so interesting a specimen.

Riley made a noncommittal grunt, and silence reigned once again. She began to play with the silver rings on her fingers, trying to distract herself from the pressure her dark side was putting upon her. She wished, not for the first time that night, that she had remembered her necklace. It felt wrong being without it.

The question was on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to ask it so badly she couldn't stand it, but at the same time, she didn't want to hear the answer if it was less than favorable. She sighed heavily, and turned her attention away from the moon for the first time that night. She looked at Tymmie, "Is it…?" Her voice trailed off and she shook her head, "Never mind." She finished.

"You know the answer already." He murmured from his crate.

"What?" She asked, jerking her head up in bewilderment.

"Your question." He stated, his eyes staring down hers, "You already know the answer to it." He scratched his head, "You know that if you walk into the Atrox, there's no leaving it." He shot her a meaningful glance, "You knew from the moment I brought you here that it would happen. So the answer to your question is yes, tonight it will cross you over."

She bit her lip, contemplating, "I didn't come here to be crossed over." She stated lamely.

Tymmie gave a humorless chuckle, "Everyone says that. Even I did." He stood up, "Your anger, your hatred at Cassandra brought you to me." He almost looked sad for a moment, "And I will bring you to the Atrox."

"This isn't solely my fault. You've been calling me." Riley stated coldly, standing up as well, "The Atrox, you, my mother, all of you have been tempting the darkness within me to take control." She clutched the space her necklace would have been, "And what's worse, is that I'm falling for it. I know I'm falling for it." She walked over towards Tymmie, but retained a safe distance, "I can feel the good portion of me surrendering, giving up because the constant torment of my mind is beginning to make me doubt my own sanity." She pointed to her head for emphasis. Her voice was quiet, "I haven't truly slept in two months. I'm constantly paranoid, I hear people following me that probably don't exist, and I don't think I have the strength of mind to keep up with your little games. I want them gone. Forever."

Tymmie was undeterred, "So that's why you've come?"

"Yes." She said softly.

"And did you think we'd just erase the nightmares all away?" He continued.

Riley thought for a moment, and she suddenly felt embarrassed, "No. But I had hoped-"

He cut her off, "That was your first mistake. Never hope for anything with the Atrox." He paused, "You're a smart girl, Riley. Surely you know that the Atrox won't take the nightmares away without a price."

She didn't like where this conversation was going, "I know." She whispered somberly.

"And surely you know what that price is going to be."

She exhaled slowly, "My hope."

"That's right," His voice sounded oily, "Your hope, or your sanity. It's your choice Riley."

"Why me?" Riley demanded, "Why have you singled me out?" She lowered her gaze to the ground, "The Atrox could make anyone its Chosen. Why me? Why not Tessa? She has the strongest power, or Imy? She has the greater control. Hell, even Aria is a better choice than I am." She sneered, "What's so special about me? I'm worthless."

Tymmie stared at Riley, astonished for a moment. After a few seconds hesitation, he walked over to her. With his fingertips, he tilted her head up so he could get a clear look at her eyes. For some reason, those eyes compelled him.

"You have the potential." He spoke calmly, "Inside of every Lecti there is a potential for darkness." He gently removed his fingers from under her chin, "The others, they do not understand it. They do not know it." He ran a hand through his hair, "They can't grasp the concept that inside of everyone, there is evil. They will not accept the fact, and they will never truly see their own faults."

He took a step away from her, not trying to make her uncomfortable, "The Atrox's Chosen know their faults, they are aware of their own sins. Because of this, they are more susceptible to them. The stronger ones can hold out for a few days, months, years, but in the end, the temptation controls them." He paused thoughtfully, "Ever hear the old expression? 'Damnat quod non intellegunt, they condemn what they do not understand'. Me and you, and others like us, we understand. Therefore, we are condemned." He stopped his rant when he saw how stoic she had become, leaning against the wall and slumping slightly as the gravity of his words hit her.

She continued to play with her silver rings, and the absent-minded thought of how they had each been a birthday present from her mother hit her. She had never admitted to giving them to her, but Riley had seen her wrapping and then placing them carefully in the mailbox, knowing that Riley would get the mail everyday after school. Riley wondered then why her mother had always tried to hide her sentiments towards her. She had assumed it was because she had never been worthy enough to receive them. Her mother was condemned- did she hate Riley because she was condemned as well?

She could feel Tymmie staring at her again, waiting for a reaction to his somewhat brutal words. But Riley could think of none. Should she be offended, angry, bitter, amused? She didn't know anymore.

Her thoughts drifted back to her mother. Her mother was dead inside, truly condemned in all sense of the word. Riley wasn't. Not quite, not yet. Riley still had something to hold onto. Her sisters. Trysten. Jimena. Perhaps even her mother. She saw that now, her mother was in need of redemption, just like she was. Riley's hatred was justified, but if she succumbed to it, she was only one step closer to becoming Cassandra. She wasn't willing to yield defeat to her own inner monsters just now.

She leveled her gaze with Tymmie's, and cleared her throat, "Would you think I was insane?"

He arched an eyebrow in confusion, "Insane for what?"

She swallowed, "For wanting to believe that I can fight it."

He gave a grim smile; the girl was full of surprises. His thoughts drifted to Trysten, his almost little brother who was destined to become the next incarnation of the Atrox's power, even though he fought tooth and nail against it. He then thought of Lambert, his leader, the traitorous one who defied the Atrox's orders to be with Aura, and how Aura's body had been destroyed because of their affair. Next was his once best friend, poor Karyl. Karyl had thrown away everything in order to achieve only a moment's rest from his inner torment, and how he had been consequentially banished and stripped of immortality because of it. And Zahi, once a powerful Immortal, outcasted than sold to Nefandus to become a slave as a result of his regained hope.

Then there was Cassandra, once a beautiful young girl, now a twisted and contemptuous woman because of the Atrox's influence. How she had, in her own demented way, tried to save her only child from falling into the Atrox's trap and becoming twisted like herself. He thought of how her efforts were in vain, and how she would also be punished because of it.

Finally, Tymmie thought of Serena, the Fallen One. The Witch Goddess who had sacrificed everything to become her worst nightmare. Of how she tried, and failed, to save the countless wretched Followers from a hopeless existence. How she, and Stanton, had been brutally murdered by Regulators as a result of her botched attempts of redemption.

"No Riley, I wouldn't think that at all." He stated simply and sincerely.

Because all of those lost souls were heroes to Tymmie.

He only wished he had the courage to join them.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

"You had better not be lying," Tessa hissed darkly, her grip tight against Murray's collar as she pinned him to the floor.

He shook his head violently, "I'm not! I swear!"

Aria watched the scene with interest. Tessa made quite the intimidating figure; she had to begrudgedly admit. Murray was in a cold sweat, his eyes bugging slightly as he tried desperately to get Tessa to relinquish her clasp on his shirt. Kelly was still out cold, and the two Goddesses were content to keep her that way.

"What was the address again?" Aria asked, grabbing a pen from her purse to scribble it down on her hand.

"Building 308, apartment 296 D." Murray spit out as Aria quickly jotted it down.

"And he'll be there?" Tessa demanded in a dangerous quiet.

Murray looked around the room, nervous and annoyed as hell, and he gave a dry swallow, "Um, yeah, he should be."

Tessa's eyes narrowed, "Should be, or will be?" Her grip tightened, "I don't like uncertainties."

"He will! He will!" Murray stammered out as he ineffectively tried to pry her fingers off of him as she began to cut off his air.

Aria looked at him groveling and sighed, time to play 'good cop.' "What Tessa would like to know, is how are we to be sure if we can trust you or not? How are we to know that you're just not leading us into a trap?"

Murray was beginning to panic, and both girls bit back a laugh at how easily his macho exterior had been eliminated, "I don't know!"

Tessa shoved him hard against the floor and released her grasp. She stood up, clapping her hands together, "There's only one way to be sure."

Murray looked at her curiously, tenderly rubbing his throat.

Aria also looked at her in confusion, "How?"

A flicker of what might have been a sadistic smile spread across Tessa's normally angelic features, "Murray's going to lead us to him."

Murray choked and backed away from her quickly, "No way in hell! Tymmie will kill me!"

Tessa smirked, "What do you think I'll do to you if you don't cooperate?"

He blanched, "But-but-but-"

Tessa jut out her lower lip, "But-but-but," She mimicked.

"But you're the good guys!" Murray finally blurted.

"And disposing of you would be our first good deed." Tessa chirped.

Murray looked over at Aria, trying to get support, "But Daughters of Selene never hurt anyone…"

Aria rolled her eyes, "Newsflash. We're not the typical Daughters of Selene."

Murray's eyes drifted over to the unconscious Kelly and he lowered his head in defeat, "Fine. I'll take you." He mumbled.

Tessa cupped her ear, "What was that? I didn't quite catch it."

"Fine! I'll take you to him," He said louder. He paused for a moment, "What about Kelly?"

Tessa shrugged and waved her hand dismissively, "Who cares? Leave her."

His mouth hung open in amazement, but he resigned the argument.

"You aren't actually going to kill him are you?" Aria whispered into Tessa's ear, "He does have a point, we're not supposed to kill."

A wolfish grin appeared, "Naw. Not tonight anyways. But threatening, however, is completely acceptable."

Aria looked at her in amazement, and opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off when she felt her cell phone vibrate through her purse. She sighed and fished around the bag until her hand gripped it. She pulled it out and looked to Tessa, "It's Imy." She muttered.

"Then answer it."

Aria nodded and flipped the phone open, "Where have you been!" She yelled into the phone immediately, in way of greeting.

_"Where the hell have I been? Where the hell have you been?"_ She heard Imy reply, obviously peeved at being screamed at.

"Passed out in a mall bathroom stall!" Aria retorted, "Your mom called and said you had vanished. We thought they had gotten to you like they had gotten Riley. DON'T EVER DO THAT AGAIN!" She was scolding Imy like a mother would scold a disobedient child.

_"Stop yelling at me!"_ Imy yelled back.

Aria squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose. After taking a deep breath, she continued, "Riley's gone. Tessa and I couldn't get to her." She gave a sidelong glance to Murray, "She's with Tymmie."

_"Shit."_

"I concur."

_"Do you have any idea where to find her?"_

Aria groaned as she saw Murray in the corner of her eye, "We have a Follower named Murray, he's going to lead us to Tymmie." She could hear mumbling between her and someone else in the background, "Imy? Who are you with?"

Imy exhaled, _"Art."_

Aria's eyebrows shot up, "Your ex boyfriend Art?"

_"Yep."_

"Art who is friends with Lance and Trysten?"

_"Yep."_

"The same boys who may or may not be Followers!"

_"Yep."_

"Are you completely insane!"

There was a second's hesitation, then, _"Yep."_

Aria slumped down on a nearby bench, cradling her head in her hand, "Imy, what the hell is going on?" She asked.

There was quiet, _"It's really complicated."_ Imy replied lamely.

"That's not good enough." Aria replied.

Imy sighed, _"Trysten and Lance are going to try and save Riley."_

Aria and Tessa shared a glance, as the latter had been listening carefully to the conversation, hovering near Aria's ear, "Save Riley from what, exactly?"

There was laugh on the other side devoid of any humor, _"This will amaze you. Apparently, Riley's a_ Lecta_."_

"WHAT!" Both Daughters exclaimed.

_"No kidding."_ Imy agreed,_ "The nightmares she's been having recently were sent by the Atrox, trying to get her to come to them on her own free will."_

Tessa paled, "And let me guess, that's what she's just done."

"_Correct for five points,"_ Commented Imy caustically.

Aria breathed slowly yet again, "How much time do we have?"

_"Not much. A few hours, at most."_

"And those two guys, they're on side, right?" Tessa inquired.

Yet again, there was hesitation, _"I hope so."_

"What about Jimena?" Aria spoke.

_"I don't know. I've left messages at her home, but she hasn't called me back yet."_ Imy answered dismally, _"It looks like it's going to have to be up to us."_

"Isn't it always?" Tessa muttered between her teeth.

"Is there anyway for us to, I don't know, meet up with Trysten and Lance?" Aria asked, and Tessa's eyebrows shot up.

"What? Why would we want to work with them!" She said.

"We're going against Followers, Tessa, who better to fight with than those who are familiar with their ways?" Aria rolled her eyes, tired of having to explain the obvious with her. She covered the phone with her hand.

"But they're on the other side!"

"We don't know that." Aria said, "They did save us once before, after all."

"How can we trust them?"

Aria jutted her thumb at Murray, "We definitely don't trust him, yet he's our guide."

Tessa's face was turning red, and she through her hands up in exasperation, "Fine!"

Aria smiled smugly, and removed her hand from the receiver, "You still there?" She asked.

Imy groaned, _"Yes. I can call Trysten and Lance, tell them to meet you there."_

Aria's smile grew to unrealistic proportions, "Good. Do that." And she snapped the phone shut without a goodbye.

Tessa snorted at her, "Rude much?"

"Now's not the time for pleasantries." She responded smartly.

Tessa shook her head and turned to Murray, "I hope you're comfortable, we're about to have company."

Murray said nothing, but distaste covered his features.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

"So when are you going to hand me over to the _Incinti_?" Riley asked, sounding oddly conversational.

Tymmie snorted, once again perched upon his crate. About fifteen minutes had passed since their strange conversation, and they had both been silent for that duration. Riley had made her way over to Tymmie's burgundy, piece of shit, sofa, and was now sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest, peaking at him through a curtain of maroon hair.

"Never. Why would I take you to the _Incinti_?" He countered.

Riley looked at him in confusion, "Isn't that who's in charge?"

He smirked, "Not in charge of me." He replied bluntly.

"Are you in the _Incinti _then?"

"Nope."

She exhaled, "Then I'm afraid I don't understand."

Tymmie scratched his head, his jet-black hair jutting out in spikes, "I'm not a Follower of the _Incinti_. Proud _Infidi_." To emphasis his point, he lifted the bottom of his black sweater up to his chin, revealing the word _Infidus_ tattooed across his chest.

"Traitorous one?" Riley queried, translating the Latin. Suddenly, she realized she was looking at a man's, a man she hardly knew, bare chest. She began to blush furiously, thankful that her tangles of hair effectively hid her face.

Tymmie brought his shirt back down, obviously not uncomfortable, "That's correct."

Her eyes widened slightly as realization dawned upon her, "Traitors to the Atrox?" When he nodded her mouth gaped open slightly, "What? How? Why?" She stammered out, surprised at this small disclosure.

"You don't know about the Schism?" Tymmie asked incredulously.

She shook her head slowly.

"Jimena must be slipping, for you not to know that." He muttered condescendingly, "Does the name Lambert mean anything to you?"

Once again, she shook her head. "No."

He moaned and leaned his head against the wall. Riley heard him grumbling over something incoherent, "Long story short," He began in a clear voice, "Lambert was an _Incinti_ member who became power-hungry. He was disgusted with the Atrox, and began to plot against them." He exhaled, "Eventually, he created the _Infidus_, a rival faction that wanted to overthrow the_ Incinti_."

"So you succeeded?"

"Not entirely." He began to play with one of his many eyebrow piercings, "But with Lambert at the head, and his subordinates, it seemed for certain that the _Infidi _would rule to world of shadows." He bit his lip, "Unfortunately, the Atrox's Prince of the Night remained loyal, and crossed over the Key, a powerful Daughter." He sighed, "The _Infidus_ was temporarily beaten, forced into hiding. But the Key and the Prince eventually betrayed the Atrox. Ironic, no?"

Riley nodded, blowing some stray hairs out of her eyes, "So what happened?"

A grim smile graced his features, "The _Infidi _rose to power, and after five or so years of clandestine warfare, the Atrox decided to split the warring factions into two groups, those who followed the old ways and the_ Cinti_, and those who flaunted their darkness and followed Lambert." He paused, "To ensure that there would be no more bloodshed amongst the Followers, the Atrox made each section equal in power. Lambert, leader of the Traitors, and the next Prince of the Night, leader of the _Cinti_, would both be second to the Atrox." He looked up at Riley, who now had her chin rested on her knees, "Naturally, that didn't solve the problem completely. The two factions are constantly at war with each other, each trying to achieve dominance and goodwill with the Atrox." He laughed, "But I guess it stopped the bloodshed. Temporarily at least."

Riley gnawed on her lower lip, "So by crossing over a _Lecta_, you gain short-term favor over the_ Cinti_."

Tymmie tapped the side of his head, "Now you're getting it."

"That seems rather pointless." She responded quietly.

Tymmie shifted his position, so that he was crouching, "Perhaps. But you see Riley, there's one person who can end this entire struggle between the factions."

Riley rose an eyebrow, "Who?"

"Trysten." Tymmie said candidly, and Riley could see a darkness enter his eyes.

She sat there, pondering. "Trysten?"

Tymmie snorted, "That's right, loverboy Trystie is the only one who can draw this competition to a close." His fist clenched, "Trysten is a _Lectus_, true, but he's so much more that that."

Riley felt a tremor in her heart that she couldn't describe, "What is he?" She asked softly.

"Trysten is the Atrox's chosen successor," He eyed her, "The next Prince of the Night. If the _Infidus_ crosses him over, the _Incinti _will be no more, and we will rule the shadow world."

Her throat tightened, "What makes you think you can get him to join _Infidus_?"

"That's easy enough." He smirked, but felt like he had a rather bitter taste in his mouth, "A little incentive in the form of a Fallen Daughter might do the trick." At seeing her shocked face, he continued, "Or the fact that it was Regulators under the control of the _Incinti_ that murdered his biological parents."

"So I'm bait." Riley muttered bitterly.

He shrugged, "Yes and no. You're an interesting case, Ms. Zalank." Tymmie cracked his knuckles, "The daughter of Selene and a Follower with _Incinti_-oriented loyalties. While Cassandra isn't very high up in the _Incinti's _hierarchy, she's an Immortal with some considerable power." He paused, "The matter of your…paternal lineage is what piques the Atrox's interest the most, however."

Riley shivered. The subject of her father was something that lay in the dark recesses of her mind. She had never known him, born an illegitimate child, and the idea that some random stranger she had never met was responsible for half of her chromosomes scared her slightly. She couldn't care less who he was; the fact that he existed somewhere was enough to terrify her. She froze when a realization hit her- her father had been tied to the Atrox?

"What?" She said dumbly.

Tymmie waved his hand dismissively, "It's just a rumor, but the Atrox doesn't take any chances." His mouth quirked into that irritating smirk, "Would you like to know who they say he is?"

"No." Her answer was quick and abrupt. Riley never wanted to know, for ignorance was bliss. By having a mental image of the man who abandoned her as some vague, shadowy figure, it was easier to cope with the fact that he had, in the end, abandoned her and her mother.

He shrugged again, "Suit yourself."

She gripped the cushion of the sofa; knuckles whitening from the stress, trying to convince herself it was a good idea to drop the conversation of her father. It was much better to not know, she was aware, but the adolescent notion of wanting to be reunited entered her mind. She quickly discarded it. It was better not to know.

A thought occurred to her suddenly, and she looked up at her captor, "What makes you think Trysten will even show up tonight? None of the Daughters know where I am."

Tymmie snorted, "The blonde does. So does the Healer. You underestimate my telepathy, little Riley." He glared at her, "And they will tell the other one, Imy, and she will relay it to that whelp of an ex-_servus_ in desperation when she discovers you're missing." He sighed, beginning to pick at his nails, "It truly gets so predictable after a while."

Riley stared at him, "What ex-_servus_?"

Tymmie turned and looked at her in awe, "Are you really so ignorant as to what is around you?"

"Yes. Enlighten me," She deadpanned, brushing away his insult.

"Those two friends of Trysten's, I believe they now go by Lance and Art, were once tied to the Atrox."

Clarification dawned upon her, and she understood what he was talking about. "I know that. Which one is an ex-_servus_?"

"Art."

She made a noncommittal grunt, processing this new fact. She sat for yet another period of silence, and Tymmie began to squirm, feeling uncomfortable with the quiet.

Tymmie's lip twitched, as he decided whether or not he wanted to ask the question, he finally surrendered, "How well do you and Trysten know each other?"

Riley gave a small lift in her face that constituted as a smile, "Not well at all."

"Then…." He trailed off.

"Then why did he risk everything to save us that night a few months ago?" Riley finished for him.

"Yeah," Tymmie muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to get kinks out. "You have to realize that you're not the first group of Daughters Trysten's seen attacked by Followers, but you are the first group he's ever stepped in to help." He slumped when his neck finally popped, "I want to know why."

Riley just shrugged, "Why does it matter so much to you?"

"Because I'm the one who sent him running," Tymmie surprised her by saying that statement not with arrogance, but with shame.

"Running?"

"I was the one who first found Trysten, back when he was only a kid," A nostalgic smile spread across his features, "I taught him how to use the telepathy he had inherited from his mother, told him about the Atrox, and the Daughters, and the whole mythological bull shit back-story."

His smile faded, and Riley noticed how his voice was beginning to tremble, "Me and him grew close, like brothers. He looked up to me like some kind of father figure. I thought of him as a younger, untainted version of me." He exhaled slowly, "And I eventually betrayed his trust. I told Lambert about whom I had found, and naturally, Lambert told the Atrox." He swore, and his voice took on a melancholy quality, "Then Trysten had to do the dumb thing, he had to have that goddamn streak of nobility like his father, had to resist the Atrox and shun the title of _Lectus_. He should have known better."

Tymmie shook his head, trying to clear bad thoughts and washed-up memories. Riley watched him, observing his tone and the emotions beginning to stir up carefully. "They sent Regulators after his foster family, trying to remove what made him want to keep his hope." He sneered, "When I had gone to warn him, it was already too late. There was nothing left of his home. A few embers, a couple charred pieces of wood left over from the fire." His eyes took a haunted glare, "And there he was. Sitting all alone, hugging himself tightly and staring at the bodies of his supposed parents."

Riley winced as the raw pain from his memories hit her, and she found herself wallowing in grief and self-loathing. She looked at Tymmie sympathetically, but he ignored her, lost in his own damning flashbacks.

"When I tried to talk to him…he…" Tymmie turned to face her for the first time, "He hit me, punched me right in the mouth. I let him, of course, I had deserved it." Tymmie looked at his hands, "He spit on me and cursed me, then turned away and never spoke to me again."

Riley said nothing, only stared at him and felt his pain.

"And it had hurt more than anything I had ever felt before in my life." His voice was definitely beginning to falter, "More than my own parents dying, more than my sister crossing me over then committing suicide." He paused, "More than walking out on my leader and friends to join Lambert. Even more than killing my brother when he stepped out of favor with the Atrox. It hurt because I knew that this was the first person I had ever truly tainted with my misery. I had destroyed him, ruined the sacrifice his biological parents had given their lives for, forced him to become as twisted and dark as I was." His hands clenched into fists, "I murdered Trysten the boy, and created Trysten the _Lectus_."

He stared at her coldly, "I am a monster. I am condemned. I am hopeless." His nostrils flared slightly, "And you will become me." His words were laced with hatred, "Once the Atrox gets its hands on you, you will hurt Trysten, like I hurt him." He exhaled slowly, "You don't even realize what the hell you've done. Crossing over will break whatever resolve Trysten has left. It will destroy him." He paused, feeling slightly guilty as she flinched at his words.

Riley stood silently, hugging herself as she tried to comprehend this huge burden that had been placed upon her. She felt low as the earth in that moment, knowing that it could be her fault in the end if Trysten was the next victim of the Atrox. She hadn't known, it wasn't fair; she hadn't known that Trysten relied on her friendship so much.

She hadn't known.

She slumped down on her knees, shielding her face from Tymmie with her hand. Never before had she even considered the option that it wasn't just herself she was affecting when she had gone after her mother. Trysten had risked his freedom to save her from the Followers once before, and what had she done to thank his sacrifice? Walked straight back into their hands. Imy and the others would come looking for her, and they too, would possibly suffer from the wrath of the Atrox.

She thought back to the car accident. Cassandra had been trying to kill her; Twiggy and Imy were just additional casualties, without the aide of Selene, they both would have died. Riley's pale hands began to tremble, and she clutched tighter to her sides, tight enough to feel the rib bones underneath her two shirts. She choked; she had ruined it. She had ruined everything and everyone that she held dear. She had destroyed it all. Gone with a rash decision of selfishness.

"I never wanted this," She strangled out, shaking her head violently, "I never wanted this." She repeated, her voice so soft that Tymmie had difficultly making out her words. "I never wanted to be a Daughter of the Moon, I never wanted to be a stupid Chosen; I never wanted to fall to my dark side." She felt an odd burning sensation in her eyes, and knew that tears were starting to form. She lowered her head so her hair once again hid her face. The shame was strong enough- the last thing she wanted was for Tymmie to mock her for her weakness through crying. "I never wanted to hurt anyone."

Tymmie had watched her reaction with indifference, or least he had tried to. He felt an odd tugging feeling in his chest when he saw her fall to her knees. He knew all too well the emotions she was experiencing at the moment, and it wasn't because she was projecting them all over the room. He too had let down and vanquished all the ties that had made him human, he had disappointed those who he had cared about deeply. Tymmie had succumbed to his dark side, and allowed himself to become a hollow, empty shell that could only feel when it brought misery upon others. He was what Riley was on her way to becoming.

Yet, when she began to weep, and Tymmie could tell she was crying behind that disarray of maroon hair, he felt like scum, the anger he felt at her dissipating instantly. Yes, he knew that Riley would be the undoing of Trysten, but it wasn't exactly her fault alone. It was Tymmie, after all, who had informed the Atrox of his existence in the first place, Tymmie who had forced Trysten down the path of darkness, like he was doing to Riley now. He hated himself for his actions, and realized he had been placing his self-loathing on Riley as a source of blame.

Tymmie then felt something he was definitely not habituated to.

He felt ashamed of himself, ashamed of his actions and words.

He cleared his throat, got off of his crate, and walked slowly over to her. He knelt down to her eye-level, resting on the backs of his heels. Tymmie gingerly cleared some hair from her eyes. He saw her tear-stained face and sympathy welled within him.

Her reaction was instant, "Get away from me." She hissed, her voice strikingly similar to Cassandra's, "I don't want your pity." She jerked away from him hastily, landing on her butt and leaning on her elbows.

Tymmie's face was expressionless, but he couldn't bear the fact that he was starting to taint yet another lost soul. His eyes softened, and he did the most unexpected thing a Follower could ever do to its victim.

He wrapped a strong arm around Riley, and pulled her into a comforting hug.

She tensed for a moment against him in shock, and then began to struggle, "I told you, I don't want your pity." She spat, hoarse-sounding from the shed tears. "We both know this is my fault."

Tymmie just shook his head and gripped her tighter against him, resting his chin on top of her head, "This isn't pity, Riley." He whispered so low Riley could hardly hear, "This is more…empathetic."

His words seemed to have an effect on her, and she sagged against him, forgetting her struggle. Tymmie wondered briefly if she was past the point of no return, on the verge of complete apathy, but it was dispelled when he felt his shirt beginning to soak.

Riley was crying, full, fat tears rolling down her cheeks as she clutched his shirt in her fists.

Tymmie suddenly felt very uncomfortable, not accustomed to being the shoulder to lean on. He awkwardly rubbed her back, "I can't tell you it will be alright." He muttered honestly.

She said nothing, only nodded into his chest.

He sighed, feeling very much like an older brother, like he had when he had taught Trysten. Tymmie could only shake his head, knowing that after she was done sobbing, and his guilt complex was momentarily satisfied, he would call Lambert. He would call Lambert and arrange a Cold Fire ceremony. It was what he had been commanded to do, and once she belonged to the Atrox, it would then be Trysten's turn. It would kill what was left of his humanity, he knew that, but still, it would happen.

He could not deny what he truly was.

Riley's crying had slowed, but she still gripped his shirt like a lost child would cling to its mother. After a few moments, she sluggishly lifted her head, and Tymmie once again found himself staring into her eyes, now red-ringed and puffy.

"I'm-" she didn't finish, for as soon as she opened her mouth, the door to Tymmie's apartment simultaneously burst open.

"Now, now, now," Came a cruel voice from the doorway that Tymmie instantly recognized, "What do we have here?"

**oOoOoOoOoOo**

That's all folks! Sorry about the cliffhanger, but this chapter was pure evil to write through. EVIL! I'm not very happy with it.

**Next Up: **Trysten and Lance team up with Tessa and Aria, and what exactly is Jimena up to?

Thanks to all reviewers!

!nym!


	16. 12 Invocation

_Night's Children: Nox Noctis_

**AN: **I want you all to pay close attention to Jimena's visions, it might not be important now, or even in this book, but it will come into play later in the series. Sorry this one took so long coming out. :sad face:

**Chapter Twelve: Invocation**

Her limbs were beginning to ache. Cold from lack of circulation and the hopeless presence stirring within. How long she had been sitting there, lotus-style, on her large couch, she did not know. It couldn't have been too long, for Cassandra had just left. Her eyes were shut lightly in concentration, her mind open and her ears hearing every small sound around her. The cars from outside the window, the steady hum that never seemed to leave the city. Flickers of light danced around the room from the candles she had lit.

She could feel the moonlight shining down upon her. Patiently waiting for her to have something to say. Her breath became long and deep, and she knew the amulet around her neck was beginning to pulse, a swirl of colors, predominantly white.

She licked her dry lips, and opened her mouth, "_Mater Luna, Regina Nocis_, I your unassuming servant, Jimena the reincarnation of Pandia, request your guidance." She swallowed, "I request your vision, your power to be restored to me this bleak night. For tonight is the night of the Atrox's chosen." She paused, "Tonight is the night of your Daughter, the _Lecta_."

"I humbly invoke the power of the moon, to once again feel the power of the light and to utilize the long-forgotten gift of premonition. Please, Great Goddess, allow me to see the future of my charges. For not only is the Daughter of the Atrox in danger, so is the Daughter of Nemesis, the Daughter of Eileithyia, the Daughter of the Prophecy, and the Son of the Fallen." She inclined her head, chin touching her chest, "Please allow me to save them."

Her only response was silence, and Jimena swore, wondering if her resentment of her role as the Magna Mater had persuaded Selene to strip her of her powers permanently.

But then, her closed eyelids began to shutter, and she saw her first true vision in fifteen years.

_The girl stood before the roaring flames, a hand delicately tracing over the fire. Her long, maroon hair was lying gently down her mid-back, swaying from the breeze. Her clothing was a simple yet elegant off the shoulder dress. Her skin was pale, and her feet were bare on the cold stone of the floor. An amulet of Selene glowed brightly, trying to warn her of the fire._

_She was not alone. To her side stood a boy, with unkempt hair that rested on his shoulders. His face shrouded by the night's shadows. His hand rested on one of her shoulders in a comforting gesture, when he spoke his voice was low and full of regret, "You don't have to do this." He warned._

_She turned her gaze from the fire for a fraction of an instance to look at him, "Yes I do." Was all she said, her voice a whisper and it was impossible to tell if it was sorrowful or eager._

_"Is this because of him?" The boy asked, his tone resentful._

_She was silent, staring at the flames as they hissed and crackled. "Yes." She muttered softly, the boy flinching slightly at her admission, "And no." She continued._

_The pair remained silent for a moment, watching as the fire danced in anticipation, watching as shadowy figures began to appear from the darkness._

_The girl cradled her hand to her chest, over her heart, "I have to save them."_

_The boy shook his head in ill humor, "You don't have to save anyone. This was their choice."_

_The girl lowered her head, her hair hiding her face, "It was not their choice; they would not have done it if it were not for me." Her eyes were melancholy, "Please," She begged of the boy next to her, "Understand. I cannot go on hurting the ones I care for like this. Lambert will-" Her voice trailed off._

_The two looked at each other, and the boy pulled the girl into a hug. He kissed the top of her head, "I will stay." He whispered so quietly into her hair, "I will stay for you."_

_The girl nodded into his shirt, and clutched him tightly._

_They remained that way for a few moments, until a strong hand pried the couple apart. A figure clad in only a dark hood stood behind the girl, who was wiping away some tears that had collected in the corner of her eyes, "It is time." The figure's voice was cold, indiscriminate._

_The girl nodded, and hesitantly stepped into the fire, leaving behind the boy who stared at her with longing and grief._

Flash.

_The vision had changed its shape, becoming another scenario. It was again night and a girl with golden brown, curly hair stood shakily on her feet, swaying slightly. She looked horrible, as if she had been beaten to within an inch of her life. Her face was pale, and she was wearing pajamas that were ripped in a several places. Yet her eyes were determined, and she stared ahead in the distance._

_Around her feet, there were puddles of blood, the scenery around her demolished. More importantly, on the ground, there were three unconscious figures. One was a blond, laying face down, her skin pale. Another was a brunette, crashed against a marble pillar with blood pooling out of a corner of her mouth. Finally, there was the same maroon-haired girl, cut and looking near death._

_The girl with the curly hair stared at a person in front of her with obvious contempt, sneering at him even though it was obvious she was about to pass out._

_The person was a man, clad entirely in black, his face hidden beneath a mask. He started walking over to her slowly, "Beaten already? I haven't even touched you yet."_

_The girl said nothing, tensing into a fighting stance and spitting blood onto the ground._

_Her vision began to skip, and Jimena knew she had missed a part, as the next thing she saw was the man crouching over the defeated Daughter, tilting her head up under the chin so she would look into his eyes._

_"I will cross you over first, little Healer." He said coyly._

Flash.

_A merciless laugh cut through the moonlit night's silence, as a girl stood victoriously over a beaten boy. He was clutching his sides and gritting his teeth. It was obvious to any who saw him that he was in a considerable amount of agony._

_"Aren't you going to defend yourself?" The blond spat cruelly, nudging him with the pointed toe of her boot, "Aren't you even going to try?" She grimaced in disgust, rearing back and sending a hard kick to his ribs. The boy with the unkempt hair and hidden face said nothing, lying in the road. "Aren't you going to talk?"_

_The boy only looked at her, his eyes shining yellow._

_The sight of his eyes only seemed to enrage her more, and she kicked him again, rolling him over and pressing him against the brick wall of the alleyway, kicking him again and again and again with rapid fervor. "You will pay." She hissed, "You will pay for what you have done."_

_The boy shook his head and didn't bother bracing himself between the blows. At one point or another of the beating, his breathing became racking coughs, blood and saliva projecting forth._

_The girl backed away finally, her anger fading, replaced with disgust, "You're pathetic. All of you are, but you especially. You have to destroy other's happiness for your own greedy pleasure," Each word issued from her mouth uttered like a curse, "You had to delude her. You weren't content on ruining your own life, you had to ruin ours as well." She clenched her fist. "I'm going to kill you tonight. Consider it your reward for all the wrongs you've committed. I'm going to kill you, then I'm going to kill all others of your miserable kind." She sneered and withdrew something from her pocket, "Any last words, you bastard?" She swore._

_The boy inhaled-_

Flash.

_The girl with the piercings and long brown hair began to scream. She raked at her face with her fingers, dropping to her knees in horror. "Why!" She croaked._

_"It's the only choice." Came a voice, "You did the right thing."_

_"NO!" She cried, pushing herself to the ground._

_"You know you wanted to, even if it was only a little." Came the oily voice once again._

_"Never!" She yelled in anguish, "Get the hell away from me."_

_"You know that's too late, little Goddess. You know it's too late."_

_"I command you to get the hell away from me!" Her voice was bordering on the hysterical._

_"_You _commanding_ me_!" The voice snorted, "Don't make me laugh."_

_"You wretched thing." The girl muttered darkly._

_"Don't be calling me wretched,_ dea_, you and I are a lot alike."_

_The girl's eyes widened in hatred, "That's not true."_

_The voice snickered, "You know it to be true. Why else would I have chosen you above all the others? You even welcomed me with open arms."_

_"I did not!"_

_"You did. You even thought of me as a friend, your closest companion," The voice mocked, "Remember? 'No one understands me, not like you. The others don't accept me like you do'." The voice mimicked._

_"I HATE YOU!" The girl screamed._

_"Then you are only hating yourself." The voice countered. There was silence, and then the voice spoke yet again, "You know there's only one way out of this Goddess."_

_The girl nodded numbly, fingering the object that she had left on the floor._

_"You know what you have to do," The voice said, persistent._

_The girl fingered the knife, cutting her thumb. She watched, morbidly transfixed as the red dirtied the smooth surface of the metal._

Flash.

Jimena's eyes snapped open, and she jumped off of the couch, landing sprawled across her floor, grabbing onto her old amulet and breathing heavily.

She knew what she had just seen.

She had seen each of her Daughters; Riley, Aria, Tessa, and Imy submit to their dark sides. Had seen them fall into traps of the Atrox. Selene had deliberately shown her the worst future for each of them.

But only one of them was a definite fall to the Atrox.

Her vision had shown Riley stepping into the Cold Fire. There was no going back after that point. Serena's downfall replayed in her mind. Riley. Serena. The parallels between the two were not chance, they couldn't be. Riley and Serena shared the same fate, but unlike Serena there would be no last minute redemption for Riley. Riley was weaker than Serena, and much more susceptible to her dark side. Her vision had shown Riley accepting the tainted side of her soul with open arms.

She swallowed, her mouth dry.

Her visions were always right.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Trysten sat behind the wheel, his fingers wrapped around it and gripping tightly. He absently gnawed on his lower lip, his eyes trained to the area ahead of him with precision. His beater hummed and he felt every bump in the road through his worn driver's seat. He doubted he had even blinked in the last few moments, as his vision was starting to grow foggy.

Lance sat shotgun, staring blankly out the windshield, trying to convince himself that the evil in the air wasn't growing thicker as each moment passed. Tried to tell himself that Trysten wasn't going to do anything rash or stupid. "Where are you going?" He asked Trysten, neither of them taking their eyes from the road ahead.

"I don't know," He answered honestly.

"You realize what you're getting yourself into?"

"Yes."

"You trust yourself?"

"No."

"You trust the Daughters?"

"…No."

Lance sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair, Trysten's confession worrying him. "Then is she even worth it?"

Trysten's eyebrow rose and he sent a quick glance at the man beside him, "What do you mean?" He asked.

Lance shook his head, "I mean, is she truly worth it? Worth seeing Tymmie again? Worth exposing yourself to a world you've been hiding yourself from for over five years? Worth being crossed over? Is one girl worth all that pain, Trysten? How can you be certain she wants to be saved, or that she might just return to the Atrox after we save her? How can you be sure? You said yourself that you don't trust the Daughters. Newsflash, Trysten, Riley _is_ a Daughter."

The gravity of Lance's words sunk in, and he gripped the wheel tighter, "She's not like the other three. She's different; I can sense it and I know you can as well. And she does need my assistance, whether she realizes it or not. If I can help one person-"

His passenger snorted, "This isn't about one person, Trysten. Don't play dumb with me, I'm not that stupid."

"She's a lot like me Lance," Trysten started out quietly, "Except that she can be saved. I know I will fall to the Atrox and inherit its powers; it's been prophesized since before I was born." His voice grew softer "There will be no redemption for me, Lance. We both know that."

"That's ridiculous." Lance replied, irritation seeping into his words, "There will only be no redemption if you allow yourself to fall that far. I had thought I was doomed to remain a Follower, and I was wrong." His eyes darkened, "There are no certainties. Not now, not ever." He snorted, "Don't use predestination or prophesy as some pitiful excuse. I'm not buying it."

Trysten groaned, "You don't understand-"

But he cut him off, "Don't understand? Think about whom you are talking to. I was a Follower for decades; you think I don't know the inner urge to take hope? That horrible and aching pain? Think I don't know the pressure your inner darkness puts upon you? Think again."

"You were never born with it," Trysten snarled, anger getting a hold of him, "You know what freedom feels like, what hope feels like. I have never known it- never will because of my parents. Don't act like we suffer the same fate."

Lance could feel his own temper meeting Trysten's, "And you and Riley do?" He asked incredulously, "Riley, a girl who has her hope, who has never been a Follower?"

"She is the Atrox's Chosen."

"So was I, so are many."

Trysten blew some hair out of his eyes, "You don't understand."

"Then tell me and quit skirting around the issue!" Lance outburst, "You said Art and I were your brothers, that you trusted us, yet you refuse to let us help."

Trysten fell silent, "It is my burden alone to carry."

"That's total bullshit."

"What can you or Art do, Lance? Answer me honestly, how can you help me?"

"How can Riley?" Lance retorted, "And if she is in a situation as bad as you are, how can you help her?"

"Its me the Atrox wants tonight, not Riley." His eyes narrowed, "And you know it, otherwise you wouldn't be ranting as you are now." He exhaled, his nostrils flared slightly, "How can I help her? I can trade my life for hers. How can she help me? By living the life I won't ever get."

Lance felt himself freeze, "I won't let you sacrifice yourself to the Atrox for some stupid Goddess, a Goddess whom will fall to the shadows on her own free will." For a brief instance in the night, his eyes flashed yellow, "You are caving, weakening, I can sense that at least. The years of fighting are taking its toll on you, and I can understand. I know the wants of having your own life where you don't have to fight. But don't for one instance use some Daughter as a cop-out for submitting to your own needs."

Lance withdrew a lighter and cigarette from his inner pocket, "What you don't seem to realize, is that its not just your life, or your hope Trysten. It's everyone's. If you step into the fire on your own free will, the Atrox wins. You are the successor, the one who will restore the lost power to the Atrox that your mother took away." He inhaled deeply, the smoke leaking out of the corners of his mouth, "I know its you the Atrox wants tonight, Riley's just bait. And you're falling for it." He narrowed his eyes, "Don't be pathetic like I was. Don't loose to your weaknesses. I won't let you, Art won't let you, and for some reason I feel Riley won't let you either." His face became grim, "Honor the sacrifice your parents made, don't repeat it. Don't insult them like that." He exhaled, a huge cloud of smoke fogging up the front of the car.

Silence reigned, and Lance stared at Trysten intently, waiting for him to rage at him for his words, wanting him to growl or sneer, do something that showed there was some type of emotion inside of him that wasn't dead. The tinniest little hint that would show that he wasn't ready to die or fall to the Atrox just yet.

"Lance." He stated in that irritatingly constant monotone.

"Yeah?" He muttered back.

"Don't smoke in my car."

Lance's eyes widened, then he shook his head slowly, letting out a low, genuine chuckle, "You got it buddy," He said, crushing the end of the cigarette against his bare palm, not even flinching when it burned him. In a few moments, the imprint from the cigarette regenerated, leaving behind nothing but the faintest of scars.

The discussion was closed, for now.

Resigned, Lance continued to look out the window, and at the darkening horizon ahead of them.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Jimena sat on her couch, yet again meditating. The fear and terror that had once filled her had vanished, and now she was desperately trying to recall the visions that had plagued her moments before, trying to see some detail she had missed. Hoping to find some way to help her Daughters.

The first vision was what disturbed her the most. Riley was stepping into the fire, that much was painfully obvious, but when and where was what Jimena was more concerned about. Was this event to take place tonight? Was that why it was shown first? Or was it to happen sometime in the future? She had analyzed every small detail, hoping to find some sort of lead. First, there was the issue of the boy beside her. Jimena did not truly recognize him, mainly because his face had been covered in shadows throughout the vision; his only feature she could clearly see were the yellow glowing eyes. That signaled him out as a Follower, yet that hardly narrowed down her options. She tried to think of any Followers that Riley had come into contact with, which were only Tymmie and Cassandra.

She groaned and leaned back. Riley had said something about trying to protect someone, but whom? She had also mentioned Lambert, Jimena gave an involuntary shudder at the thought of the ruthless leader of the Infidi.

Her musings were interrupted with a sharp knock at the door, and Jimena shifted to her feet, cautiously approaching the door. "Who's there?" She asked guardedly, hoping against hope it was not Cassandra again.

"It's Officer Jacobson, open this door now dammit!" Came a severely pissed off voice from the other side.

Jimena groaned and hit her palm against her forehead; didn't this man have a home? A family? Some type of strange hobby? Anything, really? Tonight she had had her share of unwanted visitors.

She sighed and peeked through her eyehole, sure enough; Jacobson stood there, his short and stocky frame rigid and his fist pounding on the door as he swore persistently.

"I can't talk right now," Jimena said through the door, "It's a bad time."

"Too bad." He grunted, "Let me in."

"I don't have to do anything unless you have a warrant." She stated matter-of-factly.

"Pheh." He snorted, "Your foster daughter is missing after attempted vehicular homicide, and you can't talk to a police officer?" His voice escalated as he spoke, "Telling a social worker that would get you into a lot of trouble, Ms. Castillo."

She gnawed her lip; this man was infuriating her till no end. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would."

She exhaled slowly. Pace yourself Jimena. Don't do anything rash. "What do you want?" She muttered.

"I've…um…uncovered some security tapes from the hospital that I want you to watch, Ms. Castillo."

"Is that even legal?" Jimena asked, still through the door, no way was she letting this psycho into her home.

"Not exactly. But I pulled a few strings," He paused and matched his eye up to the peephole, trying to intimidate her via eye contact. Jimena withheld a laugh; this was a determined and strange man indeed. "There's something I want you to see before I give it to evidence."

Jimena exhaled slowly, "You're damned persistent, anyone ever tell you that?"

"My first wife. Everyday."

She sighed and unlocked the deadbolt, she slowly inched the door open, "If I let you in, you need to promise to leave me and Riley the hell alone."

"No." He answered bluntly, letting himself in, "But I will keep the social worker out of it." He glanced around the apartment and saw all the lit tapered candles Jimena had used for her prior ceremony to invoke Selene's power, "Good thing too, looks like you haven't paid the electric bill."

Jimena grit her teeth and clenched her fists, "Please," She muttered, "Have a seat."

He was already sitting down, his grimy boots propped on her coffee table, "Have a VCR?" He asked, "That is, if you actually paid the electric bill."

"I pay all my bills," Jimena sneered. Ass! She added in mentally. She extended her hand and Jacobson handed her the tape. She felt the need to pummel something, but she restrained and delicately shoved the tape into the VCR. "This had better be worth my time." She warned.

Jacobson's face drew serious, "Oh, it's definitely worth your time, Ms. Castillo."

She sighed and sat down, as far away from Jacobson as possible. When she turned on the television, she gaped as she saw it was a recording from a man she could only assume was Twiggy's room. He lay there, comatose, feeding and IV tubes laced everywhere, "When is this from?" She demanded.

Jacobson leaned back and cracked his knuckles over his head, "This morning, about an hour after they were admitted into the hospital."

Moments passed, and Twiggy still lay there motionless.

"Is there a point to this?" Jimena asked, annoyed.

"Jus' wait."

The tape flickered and Jimena paled when she saw the door open. In walked two girls, girls Jimena knew had to be Riley and Aria. "Oh no." She whispered.

Jacobson said nothing, but only watched Jimena closely, judging her reactions.

Aria and Riley seemed to talk for a minute, and Riley walked over and sat at a nearby chair. Aria nodded at something and walked over to the boy. She seemed to stare at him for a moment, before she spread out her hands-

Jimena jumped up immediately to block the screen, but Jacobson gripped her forearm with extremely quick reflexes. "Watch." He commanded.

Jimena felt her eyes widen in horror as she saw the same strange haze that signaled Aria's power activating. Even though the tape was in black and white, she knew that it was a clear, sky blue. She panicked even more when an aura began to surround Riley as well, spreading to hover over Aria and Twiggy. "Turn it off." She spat.

"No. Keep watching."

"Turn it off!" She yelled, wrenching away from him and ripping the power cord out of its outlet. The TV flickered and sputtered off.

She stood up slowly, turning around to face Jacobson dangerously, "Forget what you saw." Her voice was cold and direct.

Unfortunately for her, Jacobson was not a man to be intimidated, "Never. What I saw on that tape was-"

"Its not your concern." Jimena hissed, "Get out."

"Not until I know the truth." He snarled, straightening, "I need to know what the hell is going on, and I need to know now."

"You don't need to know a damn thing!" She declared, "This is over your head and concern!"

His face flushed red, "This has something to do with the hit and run! I'm not some little pushover you can boss around, and your attitude will not send me cowering and running like some dog!"

"Why the hell do you want to know so bad?"

"What I just saw on that tape was a goddamn miracle!" He declared, "That boy should have died! Yet those girls were able to save him from the brink of death! Why the hell would I not want to know?"

Jimena's nostrils flared with rage, "So what? You can report them to the feds? Package them up and exploit them like sideshow freaks!"

"I can't let something of this magnitude be ignored." He stated.

Jimena swore vehemently and wished she had been gifted with telepathy to erase his memories. She tried to think of a way to persuade him to forget what he saw, and came up with nothing. Her anger fizzled out, replaced by despair, she sank down onto her sofa, "You can't tell anyone about this."

"Why the hell not?"

"It's a secret that's been kept for thousands of years, that's why!" She outburst.

He rose an eyebrow, "Some kind of cult, huh? Figured as much."

Jimena's face broke into a grin, finally a way out of this mess, "That's right we're the cult of," She paused, looking for some type of name, her eyes spied the rug on her floor, "Persia. And we're waiting for the spaceships from the motherworld to come and rescue us from this pitiful planet." She brought a finger to her lip in a 'shh' gesture. Better that he thought her crazy than know the truth.

Jacobson's face twisted into an expression of distaste, "An admirable effort, but you're not the type to go insane Ms. Castillo," He narrowed his eyes perceptively, "I know those types." He brought out a pair of handcuffs and chained himself to the leg of a sofa, "I want to know the truth, Ms. Castillo. And I will not leave until I know the entire story."

Jimena sighed, her eyes trailed to her window. Outside the moon shown brightly, seeming to encourage her. She inwardly prayed that this would not have serious repercussions down the road.

"If I tell you, you must swear to never share your knowledge with another soul." She spoke gravely.

Jacobson gave a noncommittal grunt, "Can I see that tape?"

Jimena groaned and reluctantly handed it over.

When Jacobson got it he gave a nod of gratitude and then broke the tape clean in half over his knees, and Jimena felt her jaw fall. "You tell me, and it will never leave this room."

Jimena felt the tinniest smile spread across her face, and she looked at him, "How well do you know Greek mythology, Mr. Jacobson?"

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Trysten leaned back and forth between his two feet, constantly shifting his weight as he stood in line. The place was a dive, the rows of candy all but cleared out, the cheap fluorescent lighting showed dead bugs trapped in the lights, and the cashier appeared to be one of the most inept people he had ever seen. In his left hand he held a crumpled five and two ones, all Lance and he could scrounge up underneath the seats of the car. Apparently driving around in aimless circles tends to waste gas.

He sighed and began to click his lip ring against his teeth. The boys had been driving for less than twenty minutes when Lance had wisely pointed out that attempting a rescue mission on about 1/16 of a tank was not the most effective way to save anyone. So the two had pulled over to some locally-run dump with a line that seemed to last forever, and unfortunately he was at the end of it.

Trysten however, didn't quite understand why he was feeling so impatient, it wasn't like he or Lance knew where Riley was anyways.

He noticed then that the cashier's eyes had not strayed from him for a moment, even when he was helping other customers ring up their purchases. Trysten shifted yet again, beginning to feel terribly uncomfortable under the man's stare.

He inched forward as the line continued at a snail's pace, trying to force himself to resist a mental breakdown that was creeping up on him.

When he finally reached the counter, he placed the crumpled bills on the counter, "Gas on 7," He stated robotically, staring at his shoes, trying to avoid looking at the cashier's incriminating glare.

The cashier, an old man with huge, coke-bottom spectacles and a nametag that stated 'Hello my name is Charlie' took the money. He hesitantly licked his thumb and straightened the bills with the grace of a professional, the register opening with a slight ting! noise, "Nice night tonight, ain't it?" He asked, apparently trying to make small talk.

Trysten's face twisted up into a grimace, "I've had better." He muttered.

The old man turned his attention away from the register and stared at him coldly, Trysten noticed rather large tufts of white hair sprouting from his ears, "I'm sure you have, Prince."

Trysten froze, "What did you say?" He stammered.

The man's gaze shifted yet again back to the register as he counted out the exact amount of change, thirty-one cents, "You heard me." He stated noncommittally, placing the coins on the counter, "Thirty-one cents is your change." His worn old eyes looked back to Trysten, "Enjoy your night sir, and remember '_leve fit quod bene fertur, onus_'." He whispered, his voice dry and cracking.

"The burden is made light which is born well," He translated. Trysten could feel curiosity filling him, replacing the shock he had experienced earlier, "Who are you?" He whispered.

The man smiled, revealing yellowed and crooked teeth, reminding Trysten instantly of a crocodile, "People around here call me Charlie," He said, flicking his fingers against his plastic nametag, "Used to be a fancier name, but I don't mind it too much. Figure I kinda look like a Charlie." His smile widened, "My job's just to get people to where they need to go," He winked, "Normally they don't like the way they're heading."

Trysten drew his eyebrows, "And where do I need to go?" He questioned.

The old man laughed, a series of violent hee-haws and flecks of spit, he even slapped his knee, "You know Prince, you already know."

Trysten backed away slowly from him, "Keep the change," He mumbled, getting away from the cashier as quickly as he could, heading towards the door. As he parted it and the small bell sound emitted from the door, he heard the old man calling after him.

"Thank you for paying the fare, hardly no one does that anymore."

Trysten shook his head and made quickly for his car, where Lance was sitting passenger side.

He stepped in and immediately buckled his seatbelt, shaking slightly and panting in fear. His eyes narrowed and he mechanically turned the key into ignition. The beater roared to life and he pulled out of the gas station as quickly as he could.

Lance stared at him, "What's wrong with you? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Trysten shook his head, "It's nothing. Nothing at all." He muttered under his breath, "I'm not going anywhere."

Lance was silent, trying to determine for himself what had happened to his friend in the few short moments he had been in the gas station. He sighed, and looked at him, "I got a call while you were in the gas station, from Imy."

The car jerked violently as Trysten slammed on the brakes, "Where?" Was all he asked.

"She told us to go to the new mall, and that Tessa and Aria are already there waiting for us."

Trysten nodded and performed an illegal u-turn, to the chagrin of the person driving behind him. He floored the accelerator and the two were gone as fast as humanly possible.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Sorry this chap was so delayed/shorter than normal… but I was having an extremely hard time writing this part. Sigh. Darn that Trysten. Yes. This is all Trysten's fault.

Brownie points to whoever can tell me who Charlie is!

_Next Up_: Riley and Tymmie face their rather unwelcome intruder, then there's Imy and Art. On a couch. All alone. O.O oh my.

Merry AssortedHolidays!

And **Double** Merry AssortedHolidays to my reviewers!

!nym!


	17. 13 Overcome

_Night's Children: Nox Noctis_

**AN: **My this fic is becoming ridiculously long. Over 150 pages:Squee: sorry this chapter took a little bit longer coming out, but to be honest, I needed a break from the world of Riley, Trysten, and co.

**Note: **The first version I posted had a few typos, I think I caught most of them :crosses fingers:

**Chapter 13: Overcome **

"You." Tymmie sneered, "What the hell do you want?"

Riley followed his gaze slowly, and turned to see a boy leaning in Tymmie's doorway. He was thin and gaunt, his skin sallow and his blue eyes sunken. Although he appeared the age of sixteen, Riley could sense something far more older and sinister behind his hauntingly blank stare. Black greasy hair lay limply, cut short, and glints of silver from his face revealed numerous piercings. He was wearing a pair of shredded jeans with a shabby leather jacket that reached to behind his knees and was torn at the hem.

The boy smirked, which grotesquely twisted his features and revealed yellowing teeth, "I've been sent by the _Incinti_ to find the Lecta." His eyebrows rose, "Should have known that you were already warming up to her."

Riley then realized the slightly humiliating situation she had put herself in. Her right hand still clutched Tymmie's shirt, and his arm was still around her shoulders. Her face flushed. This did not look good at all.

"Aw, she's blushing. Isn't that cute?" The boy sneered, his voice oily and reminding Riley instantly of a snake.

Tymmie immediately removed himself from her, and stood up, power and anger crackling around him. "Get the hell out." He growled.

He shook his head, "I have a job to do, _Infidus_." He walked over to Riley and she tensed, drawing upon her power, preparing to strike, "Hello, Riley isn't it?" He asked flatly, his eyes lingering and beginning to make her feel a little more than uncomfortable.

She nodded and stood up slowly, still rigid and ready to lash out at him if need be. She was a Goddess after all, not some little girl he could bully around.

Tymmie stood to the side, his arms crossed while he glared dangerously at the intruder. His face was set, and Riley didn't have to try hard to feel the pulsating waves of fury coming from him. There was definitely bad blood between these two, much deeper than that of simple rivals.

"Not a big talker, eh?" The boy questioned, drawing her attention away from Tymmie. His hand stretched to touch the spot where her amulet normally hung in what was hopefully an innocent curiosity.

Riley backed away quickly from him, and a flash of the power within darted through her eyes, "Don't touch me." She commanded, her voice cold and low.

The boy seemed to ignore her discomfort, and stepped closer, "I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself, now have I, _Lecta_?"

She chewed on her lower lip then took another step backwards, "I don't see why it would matter." The signals and emotions he was projecting already told her all she needed to know. They were cold, brutal, and not even remotely human.

He just smiled, stepped closer, and trailed a finger down the side of her face. She flinched and got even further away, "I go by Isaac. I've been sent by the Inner Circle to take you to your mother." He said, his voice devoid of any personality.

Tymmie's rage seemed to reach a festering point at that moment, as he walked in front of Isaac immediately, blocking his way to Riley, "You will do no such thing. The _Infidi_ found her first, and I won't let you trick her into going with you to the _Incinti_."

Isaac snorted, looking pointedly at Riley, "So you want me to step aside and let you trick her into going along with the _Infidi_?"

Tymmie sneered, "What are you talking about?"

Isaac laughed, "Same old trick, isn't it Tymmie? That whole 'feigned trust' routine gets a little old after a while, wouldn't you say?" He looked at Riley and gave that cold smile, "Bet he told you all about his inner turmoil and how they don't understand him, didn't he?" He shook his head in fake amusement, "Tymmie always tries to invoke a sense of mutual pain with his victims."

"Shut up." Tymmie seethed.

Riley froze, staring between the two.

Isaac snorted, "How do you plan to stop me?"

Tymmie was silent, but his posture and face revealed his intentions, he slowly cracked his knuckles.

Riley watched the pair and began to experience a feeling of betrayal when she realized how easily Tymmie had rejected his so-called 'empathy' when his rank within the Atrox was threatened.

She looked outside to the moon, the small sliver still glowing brightly, and she tried to ignore their bickering. Her thoughts drifted to what had happened before Isaac's untimely arrival. Inwardly berating herself, she tried in vain to forget the sudden breakdown she had just experienced, and more importantly, tried to forget that Tymmie, instead of insults, had offered a temporary reprieve. Riley's gaze trailed back to Tymmie, who was apparently now arguing with Isaac via telepathy, and wondered exactly what his intentions were.

It was obvious from the start that he was as loyal as a Follower could get, and it was also painfully evident that her step into the Cold Fire would promote his rankings. Yet he was not as callous or disgusting as she had originally thought. He wasn't kind, far from it, yet he was also not wholly evil. She stared at her hands, at the silver rings from her mother, wondering if she was going to end up like he did. Wondering if he was sincere with his words, or if he was just using them to manipulate her into trusting him.

The way he was bickering with Isaac over property rights seemed to imply the latter.

She grit her teeth, Tymmie was no different than any other Follower, his almost kindness had disappeared the moment another Follower was around. She was stupid to think that someone like him could be the source of any comfort or truth whatsoever. The strange sense of almost friendship that had occurred only minutes before was all a lie, a way to get Riley to accept her weaknesses and darkness faster. She would not fall for it. Riley stared at Tymmie, his own stare hard and unblinking at the boy who had just entered. He was no different than her mother or any other Follower; she was foolish for thinking so. He would use her to gain more power, all his words just a false façade to make her believe he actually felt empathy for her situation, or Trysten's, for that matter.

Just another Follower full of lies and deceit.

He would not show her an ounce of leniency, and he would most definitely give her that final shove into the Cold Fire. It was his nature, it was all their natures. Riley's body became rigid in disgust and anger directed towards herself, she had almost trusted that creep. She had shown him her weakness.

She had to get out before he used it against her, like Isaac had implied.

And then, suddenly, the thought had occurred.

The two were obviously distracted by each other; why not use this opportunity to escape? A feeling of hope surged within her; perhaps the fate of becoming her mother was not yet set in stone. Glancing at the Followers quickly, and seeing that they were still heavily concentrated on intimidating the other, she attempted to shield her thoughts and to plan a getaway.

She had to act fast, the night was passing and her time was running short. Neither Tymmie nor Isaac was to be trusted, and she doubted that such an opening for escape would present itself again.

Riley looked outside the apartment window, cursing as she realized that the street was a good three or more stories below her. Quickly, she looked to the side, hoping to see some type of a fire escape. A breath of relief came from her as soon as she saw the black, metal, ladder that was pressed against the side of the brick wall. She looked at it and saw that the ladder went down to the street, with small platforms located on each floor.

Her face fell slightly, when she realized that the ladder was a good six or so feet away from the window, making a quick leap and climb impossible. She noticed a small, cement ledge that led from the window to the escape ladder, and knew what the only option was.

She would have to inch along the ledge and then grab onto the ladder. Simple enough, except for one fact.

Riley was terrified of heights.

She sent a discreet look over her shoulder to see that the two were still fighting telepathically, their glazed over and glowing eyes a symbol of proof. She would have to be quick, as soon as they heard the window opening they would snap out of whatever argument they were having.

She took a deep breath, trying to quell her fear and stop her emotions from projecting. Slowly, she placed her hands on the sill. Quick, no hesitation. She chanted in her head.

Without a moment's vacillation, she slid the window open, and stepped outside onto the ledge.

Inside, she could guess that the two had just left each other's minds.

"What the hell is she doing?" She heard Isaac yell from the apartment.

She inched sideways, carefully pressed against the wall as she crawled towards the fire escape, her eyes clenched shut and her mind frantically praying that she didn't look down. The wind howled outside and whipped at her, and she swore it was trying to knock her off of the narrow ledge and into the asphalt below her.

She could hear the heavy boots of the pair echo as they ran towards the window, and within moments she knew they were at the sill.

_Don't think about them!_ She scolded herself, _Just make sure you don't fall and become pavement goo._

Slowly, she opened her eyes, trying to judge how close she was to the ladder. About three feet. She sighed and looked to the window to see that Isaac was already halfway out of the frame, a foot on the ledge. She paused, surprised, when she saw that Tymmie was not with him.

Shaking her head, she shuffled along faster, determined to reach the ladder before Isaac reached her.

"Gotcha." She heard from behind her and Riley looked to see that Isaac was only a few inches behind her.

Riley panicked, Isaac moved gracefully on the ledge while she continued at a snail's pace. In moments he would have her. That seemed to leave only one option.

It was either to become pavement goo, or to become a Follower.

Riley tensed before she jumped sideways off of the ledge, her hands outstretched and hoping they would land on something other than the street below.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Imy sighed contently as she snapped shut her phone. She slumped back against the couch, giving a sharp intake of breath as the movement irritated her ribs.

"Were you able to get a hold of them?" Asked her babysitter, Art.

She nodded, her face still in a grimace, "They're going to meet up with Tessa and Aria."

"That's a good thing, I take it?" Art asked her.

She gnawed on her lip as she shifted herself into a sitting position. "It's a good sign, at least. It would be better if both Tessa and Aria were still alive when they get there."

Art's eyebrows drew together in confusion, "Were they fighting Followers? Are they in danger as well?"

Imy chuckled, then hated herself for it as she felt the searing pain once again, "It's not the Followers I'm worried about."

"Then what?"

"Tessa and Aria don't exactly get along," Imy said, hissing as she adjusted herself once again.

"But aren't you supposed to?" Art inquired.

She went to shrug, stopped herself as she remembered the injured shoulder, and just sighed, "I guess so."

Art stared at her, seeming to evaluate the truth in her statement. He leaned back into the couch, "Then I'm assuming Trysten and Lance will have their work cut out for them."

There was a comfortable silence between the pair as they each sat with their own contemplations. It was Imy who finally spoke up, "Do you think…do you honestly think they can get to her in time?" Her voice was cautious, but shaky with anxiety.

Art hunched his shoulders, "Honestly? I don't know. It's a toss up, I guess." He paused and looked at her, "It depends on Riley. On her own personal resolve." He shook his head, "I'm much more concerned about Trysten than Riley."

She tilted her head, "Trysten? Why?"

He gave a smile devoid of any warmth, "Trysten has no personal resolve." He drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch. "Trysten has already accepted the fact that he is condemned, that there's not going to be any way out for him if the Atrox are able to somehow capture him." He sent a meaningful look at Imy, "If Riley can break passed her own darkness and desires, she still has a chance."

Imy sighed and stared at her hands, "I don't know if she can do that."

Art's eyes widened, "What?"

Imy's eyes were still trained to her clasped hands, "Riley…" She shook her head.

"Riley what?" Art prompted.

She exhaled, her jagged brown bangs flying out of her face, "Riley is different than the rest of us." She paused, contemplating something more to say, "She, she's always been the one who's cold and reserved. Never talking, never complaining, just suffering through it all." She paused and gnawed on the small silver stud in the corner of her mouth, "Riley is not one to ask anyone for help, hell, she's never even asked me for help, and I've known her since we were kids."

"There's nothing you or anyone else can do to help her with this," Art argued, "It's a personal matter, not something you can burden other people with."

Imy's head snapped up to give Art a cold stare, "It would not be a burden. And I'll be damned if I allow myself to just be pushed to the side when her life is in danger."

"You don't have a choice in the matter Imy," Art replied, matching her stare with his own.

She snorted, "There's always a choice, you just have to fight for it sometimes."

"And what exactly is it that you're fighting for?" Art countered, his voice calm, never rising.

"What?" Imy said, bewildered.

"Answer the question."

"I'm fighting to save Riley, what else would I fight for?" Imy asked in astonishment.

"What if she doesn't want to be saved?" Art questioned.

"Of course she wants to be saved from the Atrox, what kind of stupid question is that?" Imy declared indignantly.

Art shook his head, "There's so much you don't know, Imy. So much you don't understand."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, "I know enough about the Atrox to see that no one would want to live in the pitiful half-life existence it gives its Followers."

"What you don't know is the load it places over its Chosen." Art said bitterly, straightening in his seat, "You want to discuss a half-life existence? Think about the life of a _Lecti_, _Invitus_, or _Servi_. To constantly feel the pressure of the darkness, yet not being able to join it? To have your life dictated by hopelessness, but have no control over it? That's a true nonexistence. To live on the fence constantly, caught in between the conflicting desires that each side presents. To have the ever constant fear of failure, to have the urge to do good but not the will, and to have the nagging thought in the back of your head telling you that a simple decision will make it all go away. That submission will stop the inner turmoil." He paused and looked at her, a haunted look appearing in his dark eyes, "You don't know, you can't know. You haven't lived it."

"You don't have to experience the pressure in order to recognize it as something evil," Imy spat, not one for backing down in an argument.

"So what is the better alternative then? Keep up the struggle, fight the good fight?"

"Yes!" She outburst.

"What happens when you loose, Imy? What happens when there's no possible way to win?" Art continued.

"You never loose as long as at least try." Imy stated stubbornly.

Art shook his head, "Trying doesn't win against the Atrox, nothing wins against the Atrox." His face darkened, "Eventually, you will loose, and when you loose your hope, you loose everything."

Imy sneered, "I refuse to believe that. The Atrox only wins when you're too weak to carry on."

Art clenched his jaw, "That's just my point exactly. The Atrox feeds on your strength, breaks your resistance." He looked away from her, "There is no escaping it once you've been tainted by its influence."

"You're free." She said pointedly.

His voice became embittered, "For now."

"So you're just going to give up!"

"Eventually, I will have no choice." His tone was somber, "I've accepted that, the only true way out of the Atrox is death." He swallowed, "Trysten's mother bought me some time, but that's all it is, stalling." He shook his head, "I am more fortunate than the others though. I was not given immortality, if I can hold out until my death, I will be able to have a normal life. I'm not like Lance, an Immortal, or like Trysten, damned from birth."

There was silence between the two, neither of them looking at each other. After a few moments, Imy hesitantly spoke up, "Why are you telling me this?" She whispered.

At first it seemed as though he hadn't heard her, or that he ignored the question, but he slowly turned to face her, and Imy was taken aback by the fierce pain his eyes held, "So you're ready." He said quietly.

"Ready for what?" Imy questioned.

"Ready for when Riley falls to her dark side."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

She was soaring through the air.

Riley's eyes were closed, and her mind was counting down the seconds until she landed on the street below with the patented 'thwack!' sound. An inner voice kept mocking her, bringing up properties of physics and how slim the odds were that her hands would be able to grab hold of the ladder. She tensed, waiting for the sudden vertigo of falling towards death.

Yet moments passed, and it never came.

Slowly, she cracked open an eye, and almost vomited when she saw the city life of Los Angeles whirling underneath her in a flash as she passed it. Nausea from the height overcame her and she groaned.

How could this be happening? Is this what they mean when they say life flashes before your eyes? Why wasn't she hurtling light-speed towards a rather flat death?

And then it hit her.

She tried to look at the hand in front of her, and paled when she realized it was no longer there. Instead, all she could see was shadow.

_Nice try_, She heard whispered across her mind in a voice that was unmistakably Tymmie's.

Riley would have lowered her head in defeat, all of that had been for nothing. She was in a sense, right back to where she started. Useless, pointless.

It all clicked suddenly, Tymmie was not with Isaac because he had already converged with the shadows, and he had caught her before she had reached her destination. She didn't know whether to be thankful that he had rescued her from plummeting into L.A. traffic, or to be angry that he had diverted her escape. Her one moment of courage, was all for nothing.

_Why couldn't you have just let me fall?_ She thought bitterly to herself, forgetting that Tymmie was a telepath.

The two of them landed a few blocks away from Tymmie's apartment. Their feet hovered gently on the road of a darkened alleyway for a few moments before setting gracefully down. The minute their feet made contact, Riley instantly recalled the queasiness that accompanied her when she traveled like a shadow, and this time, she actually retched, quickly heading behind a dumpster and effectively releasing her breakfast.

Tymmie stood there, pointedly not looking at her, his arms crossed and his posture straightened in irritation, "Just what the hell were you trying to pull?" He demanded coldly.

Riley came out from behind the dumpster, wiping her mouth and slumping down on the ground, leaning against the brick wall, panting heavily, and not answering.

"I asked you a question!" Tymmie snapped.

Riley blew a few hairs out of her face, still ignoring him.

"You could have been smashed into a pulp!" He continued, oblivious to the darkening glare on Riley's face.

"Why do you care?" She sneered, "I'm alive, you can trade me in, all's right with the world."

Tymmie exhaled slowly, counting to ten in his mind, "That's not the point." He protested.

She rolled her eyes, "Then what is?"

Tymmie opened his mouth to retort, could think of nothing, and slowly shut it. The two stared at each other, gray eyes locked on gray eyes. Tymmie's thoughts involuntarily ran back to a few minutes prior, before that ingrate of a Follower Isaac had walked into his apartment. When Riley had been crying into his shirt, allowing herself to be vulnerable. He tensed when he looked at her now. A deep streak of annoyance hit him, she seemed angry with him for stopping her fall, for saving her life! She was open with him before Isaac's intrusion, and now she was back to being guarded.

He froze when he discovered the new reasoning for the distance. Isaac. It was painfully obvious, he had sown that seed of doubt into her mind, and now it was back to square one. Could she have been so stupid as to believe that cretin?

Then he pictured her situation, and almost laughed at himself for being so oblivious. Of course she wouldn't trust him, naturally she didn't have any reason to. He was a Follower, one who made no secret of his desire to turn her over to the Atrox in order to gain power. What had happened in his apartment, the comforting gestures, the slightly normal if uneasy conversation, was all just a momentary opening of weakness, for the both of them. That's all it was. Tymmie had been coping with the new stress of Trysten poorly, just as she was coping with the pressure of her dark side. It was only natural that they would both let it leak out to each other. Just an opening of weakness, a moment of not guarding their thoughts or emotions carefully. That was all it was. No need to get truly upset.

In a way it was a great relief. Now he could do his job swiftly and efficiently, like he had done before. No emotional attachments, the lingering feeling of guilt would disappear. It was as it should be, they were enemies, and she was his prisoner until he handed her over to Lambert.

Now feeling more at ease with himself and increasingly uncomfortable with her unwavering and scrutinizing stare, he ran a hand through his hair and began to pace slightly, effectively breaking the trance-like moment. After a few seconds, he walked over to her and grabbed her forearm, pulling her into a standing position.

Riley reacted numbly to all of this, a mixture of disappointment at her botched escape, anger with distaste for Tymmie, and fear for her situation all whirling around inside of her.

She felt a pull at her stomach with a rising sensation in her throat and Riley wondered if she was going to vomit again, but as she wavered slightly, it soon disappeared. She kept her head turned down, hiding behind her long hair so she wouldn't have to look at him.

"Are you going to spew again?" Tymmie asked her rather coarsely.

She was silent.

"Well are you?" He demanded.

It was then that she felt the familiar flare ignite within her, the cold and stony silent anger she had perfected over the years of not expressing emotion. She grit her teeth, and shrugged his hand off of her, "I'm fine." She muttered in a monotone.

Tymmie sneered, although he did not want to admit it, he felt somewhat offended at her sudden callous attitude toward him. "Good." He said bluntly, "Get walking." He continued, pointing towards the left opening of the alley.

The nausea was beginning to leave her, so she stared frigidly at him and crossed her arms over her chest in persistence, "I am not going anywhere."

Tymmie snorted, and his eyes gleamed yellow in the shadow, "You think you have some sort of choice in the matter?" He scoffed, "I've been patient enough with you. Lecta or not, if you keep up with this indignant attitude of yours, I'm going to put you in your place."

She could feel the wrath bubbling up inside of her, slowly festering, "Then do it," She spat, her voice dark and bitter.

Tymmie did nothing but stand there with a blank face, his stare frightening and haunting. But Riley stood her ground, her anger on the verge of implosion. Now was not the time for pacifism, it was a time for action, to let some speck of courage she knew she must have somewhere take control. She was tired of being carted around, lied to, and constantly reminded of her weaknesses.

"I don't have time for this," Tymmie muttered in disgust, grapping her bicep and attempting to drag her off, but she remained rooted to the spot, her heels digging into the ground. "Stop behaving like a child!" He growled in irritation.

She wrenched her arm away from him and took a few steps backwards, her eyes darting around the area, looking for a method of quick escape, "I am not going with you." She hissed, "I am not going into the Cold Fire, and I am **not **going to become like you or my mother."

Tymmie's nostrils flared in anger, "You talk tough, but I can see it in your eyes Riley. You already are like me."

"No." She said simply, "I'm not."

"And what makes you so sure?" Tymmie answered.

"I don't use people, I don't toy with their emotions, and I don't take joy out of their misery." Her eyes flashed, "That's how I'm not like you or her." She paused, "I may be pathetic, I may be consumed by my own evil, and I may hold hatred in my heart. But I resent those qualities. I don't embrace them, I have not given up yet." The unsaid statement hung in the air, _Unlike you_.

His fists clenched, and his face contorted in spite, "You haven't embraced them because you do not know what they are. You don't know what you are. That's the only reason, and soon that will change, and you will see yourself in a cold, merciless truth. You are empty Riley, like the rest of us. And then, you will cave." His power crackled around him in fury, "And when you do, I will be there to watch you fall."

She stiffened, but Tymmie noticed the absence of emotions cluttering the air, she was totally calm. "Perhaps. But it won't be tonight."

It was then that Riley started to walk away.

Tymmie let her.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

One foot in front of the other, Riley told herself calmly, trying to keep her nerve and quell the feelings of anxiety as she walked away from Tymmie. She didn't expect him to let her walk away. But he did. She had assumed he would cart her off before she could get a good two feet's distance. But he didn't.

As soon as she had turned the corner, Riley broke into a full sprint down the side street, hoping against hope that when Tymmie came to his senses, she would be far enough away. She wasn't a match against him, far from it, so her only option was flight.

Pumping her arms and legs as fast as she could, she kept her head lowered as her feet slapped rhythmically against the pavement. Soon, there was a sharp pain in her side, but she ignored it, desperately trying to get away.

Her foot caught on an edge of her pants, and she stumbled. Luckily, she was able to balance herself and keep upright by balancing with her arm. She nimbly jumped over scattered trashcans, and soon saw the break of the darkened alleyway, and the neon lights of the Los Angeles nightlife beckoning to her a few buildings away.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she looked quickly around the alley, to ensure Tymmie had not chased after her. Riley quickly turned around to see if he was behind her. She scrutinized the area carefully, and she gave to slight grim smile she was known for when she realized he had not followed after her.

She whirled quickly around, only to crash into someone's chest. She fell on her butt from sheer shock at the new presence, and when she saw who it was, she scrambled up and away from him.

"You weren't thinking about leaving, were you?" Came the cold voice of Isaac, his arms over his chest, and his trench coat seemed to billow like they did in bad science fiction movies. His eyes glowed yellow in the darkness, and Riley had to muster a hard swallow.

"H-H-How?" She stammered, trying to summon her powers, but failing miserably.

Isaac shook his head slowly, his black hair cluttering his face and giving him the appearance of an escaped mental patient, "That was a crazy little stunt, but I'm not stupid." He said lowly.

There was a heavy, quiet feeling in the air, and Riley's eyes darted around desperately, trying to find a way to get from Isaac and into the public, where bystanders would discourage an attack. For a moment she wondered about calling Tymmie, but that thought was quickly dispelled. She'd just be passed from one Follower's hands to the next.

"You're coming with me to the _Incinti_, Riley," He commanded, outstretching a pale hand to grab for hers.

She shook her head and backed away, "No." She protested, feeling some of the ancient power within her.

Isaac threw back his head and laughed, "You honestly think you have a choice in the matter, little _Lecta_? You belong to the Atrox now."

"I don't belong to anyone," She snipped, feeling some relief as she saw the gray haze form around her, signifying her energy gathering.

Isaac sneered, "You have to do this the hard way, don't you?" He said reproachfully, "Fine by me, little Riley." He stated, cracking his neck and getting into a fighting stance.

Riley exhaled, and tensed, waiting for the fight to begin.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

As soon as Riley was out of sight, Tymmie crashed his fist against the bricks, uttering a bestial grunt in his frustration. His anger somewhat spent, he exhaled slowly and slumped against the wall, his head leaning back against it. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to forget that he had just let a _Lecta_ walk away from him because he was irritated with her. After a few moments, he turned his lifted his head with hesitation.

"You can come out now." He said without enthusiasm or joy.

"That was a very stupid thing to do," Came a low, feminine voice as a pair of yellow eyes shined from the shadows of the alleyway, and soon Tymmie saw the figure of Cassandra emerge. Her maroon hair pulled back in a bun, the ghost-scars of STA visible under the base of her throat, "If I know Lambert, he won't be pleased."

"She's your damn kid," Tymmie replied.

"Not anymore." She said bluntly.

He paused, then nodded in agreement. "What do you want Cassandra?"

"Jimena knows that Riley is with you." She warned; she looked down the alleyway, where Riley had gone. "Not that it matters now." She said sardonically.

"She'll come back. They always come back," Tymmie said, and then froze, "How does Jimena know?"

"I told her."

"Why would you do something like that?" Tymmie demanded, "Incinti or no, it's a pretty pitiful way to gain an advantage."

"I had…a moment of weakness," Cassandra replied, her facial expressions yielding no help in finding her motive.

Tymmie scrutinized her for a few moments, trying to judge her intentions, but Cassandra gave away nothing. "Why tell me this?" He asked, "Why not just use your slip-up to give the _Incinti_ the head start?"

"Because the _Incinti_ already has more than enough of a head start," Cassandra responded, "They've sent Isaac after Riley."

Tymmie snorted, "I know. The Atrox's whipping boy already paid a visit to my apartment."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow in bemusement, "Where is he now?"

Tymmie gave the old cocky grin once again, "Lost him."

Cassandra shook her head, "Don't be so arrogant. It won't be long before he returns."

Tymmie sighed and leaned his head back. Of course he knew. Isaac belonged to an elite class of Regulators, ones that had been trained in tracking to perfection, and Riley wasn't the first _Lecti_ that he had been chosen to retrieve for the Inner Circle. He was normally Tymmie's only true rival for that field, and Cassandra was right when she said it wouldn't take him long to find them. He hated the other Follower's guts, but he had to respect his abilities.

"I know." Was all he said in defeat.

Cassandra placed a hand on her hip and stared at him in curiosity, "Why exactly did you let her go?"

"She was being a pain in the ass," Tymmie supplied.

"No, that's not why." She paused, "You've had worse _Lecti_ to control. Why let Riley go?"

Tymmie huffed, "None of your damn business."

"She's my daughter."

"Not anymore," Tymmie retorted, throwing her earlier words back at her.

Cassandra shot him a look of venom, and opened her mouth to say something, when suddenly her head snapped up, "Riley." She whispered.

Tymmie gazed at her in confusion, and then turned to look where she was staring. The darkened alleyway Riley had run off to seemed ominous in the dark.

In a few moments, the pair heard the sound of a scream echo throughout the night.

"Oh shit." Tymmie muttered.

The reaction was instant. Cassandra bolted off first, heading quickly towards the source of the sound, Tymmie was right after her, knowing who the scream belonged to.

When the two reached the end of the alleyway, just before it entered the main street, they saw a darkened figure hunched over something, its back to them.

"Isaac," Cassandra said crisply, "Where is Riley?" She demanded.

Tymmie's fist tightened when he recognized the shadowy figure, "Give her back you bastard," He swore through clenched teeth.

Isaac began to chuckle, and he slowly stood up then turned around. Both Cassandra and Tymmie tensed when they saw the body of an unconscious Riley cradled in his arms. Her eyes were closed, and a dark aura seemed to encircle her head. Isaac looked rather rough, his lip was cracked and his nose was bleeding. "I've got her, don't worry." He crowed.

"What the hell did you to do her?" Cassandra outburst.

"Hmph," Isaac said dismissively, "She's lucky I didn't do more. Little spitfire got a few good throws in." He paused and looked at the two, "What's this, Cassandra? Fraternizing with the scum of the enemy?"

"Watch yourself, Isaac," Tymmie spat, "Give the Infidus Riley back."

"No can do," He said, then he turned and looked at Cassandra, "The _Incinti_ will not be pleased with this." And soon he began to shift.

Tymmie charged at him, determined to stop Isaac before he disappeared with Riley in tow, but it was to no avail, because his outstretched hands had touched nothing but air.

Isaac had disappeared into the shadows.

And he had taken Riley with him.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

That's it for this chapter, folks! But it marks a pivot in the storyline, after this, things are going to become much more action-orientated and gearing towards a conclusion. Yayers!

_Next_ _Up_: Tessa, Aria, Lance, and Trysten team up and begin their search, but Jimena and Gordon aren't going to stay in the background for much longer.


	18. 14 Gordon's Pain

_Night's Children: Nox Noctis_

**AN: **In this, _italics_ are Gordon's flashbacks. Also, I was wondering if anyone had an opinion for pairings or couples in this fic? I'm starting to lean towards some, but there are a few that I don't have developed yet, so I was wondering if anyone had any ideas/favorites in mind?

**WARNING: **There's going to be some violent/graphic descriptions in this chapter, if you don't like these, I would advise you to skip over the parts in _italics_. _Italics. ooo._

**Chapter 14: Gordon's Pain **or **Help From the King and Queen**

"Where are they?" Tessa said in irritation for about the fifth time in twenty minutes.

"Imy said they'd be right over," Aria supplied, resting her chin on the heel of her hand.

The three, Tessa, Aria, and Murray, were sitting outside of the mall on two concrete benches. The air was slightly chilled, but it was endurable. Aria and Tessa shared a side, while Murray sat across from them, inhaling on a cigarette and generally pouting. Kelly had been left inside the mall, sprawled across the floor and still unconscious. Tessa's eyes never left the Follower in question, knowing he would try to pull something.

"You're not going to save her, y'know," Murray commented darkly, "Four chumps against the Atrox and its Followers? Pheh, no chance." He said, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"Hey," Tessa growled, "Shut the hell up."

"No one asked you," Aria agreed.

Murray shrugged, inhaling deeply, "Lambert is the most ruthless of us all, and the Incinti won't let a Lecta slip away."

Aria ignored the rather annoying boy, her own stare trained to the passing cars, looking inside each car window hopefully, trying to get a glance of Trysten or Lance. A few moments passed, but soon, she saw what looked like Trysten's head. "There!" She said excitedly, standing up and squinting, "Is that them?"

Tessa followed her stare, "Yep, that's them all right." She said, giving a sigh of relief and also standing up. She looked at their reluctant guide, "Stub it out, and let's get going."

Murray shot her a look of pure acid, but stubbed the cigarette out with the toe of his sneaker.

A black, beaten car cluttered up to the curb, and pulled to a slow stop. Aria approached it carefully, while Tessa stood behind, gripping Murray by the bicep. She startled slightly when the window crept down, but it was replaced by confidence when she saw the familiar sight of Lance, with Trysten sitting next to him.

"Get in," Lance said to Aria, but then stopped when he saw the blond Follower. "You." He sneered coldly.

Murray laughed without humor, "And you. You're the one going by Lance now, how pathetic!"

"You two know each other?" Tessa asked suspiciously, her eyes darting back and forth between the pair.

"Unfortunately," Lance answered, staring at Murray like a lion stares at its prey. Murray shifted uncomfortably but said nothing.

"We don't have time for this," Trysten said coldly, "We need to get to Riley."

Murray's eyes widened, "Ah, you must be Trysten, never did get to see you up close," He spat, his voice contemptuous, "But I suppose the rumors are true, you really look just like him, except for the hair of course."

Trysten froze, his fingers wrapping around the wheel tightly. And Aria watched his reaction with interest, "Look like whom?" She asked innocently.

Murray grinned widely, "Why, like Stanton of course. Funny, how life turns out, isn't it?" He queried, turning his attention to Trysten, he leaned his head near the window, "You know, I was once apprenticed to him, your dad." His face contorted from grin to sneer, "He was the biggest prick-"

"Shut up," Trysten snapped, his anger making his face go red but he stayed seated and in control.

"Why are you with them Murray?" Lance demanded, cutting in, hoping to stall Murray's attention away from Stanton and Trysten.

"He's our guide," Tessa answered smartly.

Lance's eyebrows rose, "Guide for what?"

"To take us to Tymmie," Aria said gently.

Trysten's eyes widened and he froze, "Why are you going to Tymmie?" His voice was low, dangerous, but above all, scared.

"That's where Riley is," Tessa said in a patronizing tone.

"Tymmie…Tymmie is the one who has Riley?" Trysten asked, his words shaky.

Aria nodded.

Trysten exhaled slowly, gripping the wheel even tighter.

Lance's gaze flickered back to Trysten and he ran a hand threw his dark hair, "You know where Tymmie is?" He questioned Murray.

"Yeah."

"I don't believe you." Lance stated.

Murray laughed and tapped the side of his head, "You have to power to find out for yourself."

Lance looked at him with an expression of distaste, but the turned his attention to Aria, "You're positive that she's with Tymmie?" His voice left little room for uncertainty.

"Yes." Aria spoke softly, she looked at the pair in the car, "What's wrong? Is they're something that you're not telling us?" She demanded.

Trysten shot a furtive glance at his passenger, "We'll explain later, get in the car."

Tessa snorted, "No, not unless you tell us what's what. I'm not about to trust someone who could be a Follower."

Trysten sighed angrily, "There isn't time for that!" He snapped.

Murray gave an oily smile, "Isn't that the proof you need, dea? He's refusing to tell you because he is one of us."

Trysten gave a sharp intake of air, "I am not one of you."

Lance looked at the two girls pleading, "You have to believe us when we say we have Riley's best interests in mind." He shot a dark glare at Murray, "He's just trying to stall you and to get you against us."

Murray chuckled, "So pathetic in your defensive lies."

Tessa stood, unmoved. She scrutinized Murray, "So you think that we shouldn't trust them?" She asked the James Dean lookalike.

He nodded.

Tessa smiled, "Alright, Lance, we're with you."

Aria inclined her head, "Let's go, you can explain on the way." She said crisply, "But know this, try anything remotely suspicious, and we're out."

"Agreed," Lance stated.

The tension cleared, at least temporarily, the three stepped in gingerly to the backseat of Trysten's car. Trysten's eyes glared at the blonde Follower through the rearview mirror, "Where is Tymmie?"

Murray looked defiant, but a quick jab to the ribs from Tessa quickly changed his mind, "Most likely, he's at his apartment."

"Where's that?" Lance asked.

Murray grimaced, "It's off of Ocean Way, a side street on Wilshire."

"The address?" Trysten demanded.

"Building 308, room 296 D," Tessa supplied quickly.

Lance shot her a quizzical look, to which she just shrugged, "I had some time to interrogate him before you arrived."

Lance shook his head, but Trysten paid no mind, as he accelerated the car into the night.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Gordon Jacobson sat at a kitchen table, his hands wrapped around a cheap ceramic mug of coffee. The only illumination in the room came from the stars and the brightly shining crescent of moon that filtered through the blinds. His eyes were trained to his own reflection in the coffee mug. A nose too big, strained and worn eyes, with the stubble that was the result of a hangover he had that morning. So much was different now, and he was having a rather hard time processing the new information that had just been presented to him.

Jimena sat across from him, her dark eyes trained on his face, trying to judge a reaction. Her meticulously clean fingernails drummed along the tabletop, not with impatience, but out of anxiety. Her breath was even, and she was tense, eagerly awaiting his response to the story she had just told him.

Gordon could sense her gaze, and her anxiety. Slowly, he turned his bloodshot gaze away from the coffee cup and up to look at her, "So…these things, these Followers, they steal hope from people?"

Jimena nodded curtly, "Yes."

"And how do they do that exactly?" He asked.

"The Followers serve the Atrox, and it is actually the Atrox that steals hope from others," Jimena paused, trying to explain the situation accurately, "When the Atrox takes hope from people, it trades the hope for its self, its own emptiness."

Gordon absently scratched the side of his face, "So you're telling me that these Followers were once just regular people?"

Jimena nodded.

"But not anymore?"

There was a pause, before Jimena nodded again.

Gordon sighed, "This is big." He paused, then looked at her, "These four girls, Ormond, Zalank, and the other two, they're…Goddesses?"

"Yes, they are the Daughters of the Greek Moon Goddess Selene and her mortal lover Endymion." Jimena clarified.

"And how come no one else has ever found out about this?"

Jimena imitated Gordon's sigh, cradling her head in her hand, "Some have. My ex-husband, for instance," She paused giving him a meaningful look, "But most are oblivious, or willfully ignorant."

"Willfully ignorant?"

She gave a grim smile, "Surely you know most people choose not to believe in things outside of their comfort level. I suspect that a creature older than the Christian devil who devours hope is one of those things."

He studied her for a moment. He didn't want to believe her; he didn't want to believe that the woman across from him was totally sane, and that the boogeyman who lurked in the shadows was real. He most definitely didn't want to believe that four snot-nosed kids were the only things standing between that monster and normal people like him. His hand gripped the mug tighter, and he could see the veins rising from the back of his hand. Gordon looked back at his reflection, and his thoughts unwillingly drifted to those without hope, the Followers. According to Ms. Castillo, they were normally just kids, teenagers.

He shuddered involuntarily at the prospect of having to live in a world without hope, without any motivation for existence. He winced as he thought about the so-called 'Immortals', the ones that Castillo said were doomed to live with that burden for all eternity. Unbidden, the horrible question popped into his head. If they were almost always kids, then could he have been one? _Perhaps that was why he-?_

He squeezed his eyes shut as memories resurfaced into his head.

_It had been a long day, and he sauntered into the house, tossing his keys languidly onto the kitchen counter. He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a drawling sigh, trying to relieve the pressures from his work._

_And that's when he noticed it._

_At first he wasn't even aware of the smell, just the deafening presence of silence. There was no noise, no signature of movement, nothing. He paused, and opened his eyes to the digital clock above his oven, why wasn't there any noise? It was after school, he should have been home by now._

_He stiffened, "Hello?" He called out, "You home?" He addressed the looming darkness and solitude._

_His feet crept across the carpet, the shuffling motion breaking the crushing hush, for which he was thankful, as it made him more than uneasy._

_He walked slowly to the end of the hall, where he stopped before the last door on the left. He inhaled sharply, grimacing at the odor seeping out from the room. His hand rested gently on the knob to the death metal poster-covered door, and he leaned against it._

_"Hello?" He said, trying desperately to ignore the hitch his voice made._

_He stopped, listening carefully. There was nothing on the other side of that door. Nothing living, anyways. He could hear his heart thudding violently against his ribcage as he tensed, trying to work up enough of a nerve to open that door, to see what was on the other side._

_Yet fear stilled him, and once more, he tried in vain, "Emil?" He croaked._

_Still that mind-numbing nothingness._

_Taking a deep breath, Gordon slowly opened the door to see-_

"Mr. Jacobson?"

Gordon was shaken violently from his reverie, as he jolted straight up in his seat. His sudden movement caused some excess coffee to slosh over the mug's rim and scald his hand slightly, "Shit." He swore, shaking his head slowly to clear those damning memories.

"Are you alright?" Jimena asked, regarding him almost coldly.

He looked up at her, "What?" He demanded in a voice edged slightly with irritation.

"You looked lost for a moment," Jimena clarified, seeming to evaluate him.

Gordon stared at his hand, wiping the coffee on his pant leg, "It's nothing," He almost barked, his voice clipped and easily stating that he didn't want to discuss his troubles.

Jimena continued to stare at him, slightly concerned at his spaced-out reaction a few seconds prior. But she slowly cleared her throat, indicating that she would let the issue rest…for the moment.

Gordon ran a hand through his thinning hair and leaned back, slowly getting back his composure and relaxed stance. His thoughts re-processed the information that had been presented to him.

He did not want to believe, he did not want to accept it. Yet the trailing voice within him, the voice that pushed aside manners of the head for manners of the heart, was telling him that this strange woman was right. That this bleak world without hope was a very strong, and increasing, possibility. His thoughts drifted back to Emil for a few moments, and regret stung his chest. Was he another victim? Was Emil driven to his choice by this strange power?

He swallowed, although his mouth was dry.

He believed this crazy woman, believed that there was something darker and more sinister in the shadows of Los Angeles than drugs and crime. Believed in that twisting, corrupting force.

He believed the devil existed.

But more importantly, he believed that it needed to be stopped. His life-strained eyes looked across the table, the woman, an ex-gang member, was his only link between the world that skimmed the surface of the shadows, and the way to stop this thing, this Atrox.

He had to know, he had to know how to stop this. His fist clenched, and he ignored the sting of the burn. This was more than some timeless war between demi-gods, this possibly affected him personally.

"Where do you fit into all of this?" He asked, determined to discover all he could about this clandestine war.

Jimena hesitated before answering, wondering where the strange drive had come from, "I'm something called the Magna Mater, and I've been chosen by Selene to mentor and protect her Daughters while they remain on Earth." She said crisply.

"While they remain on Earth?" Gordon inquired shrewdly, cop instincts coming into play.

"When each of the girls turn seventeen, they will have to make a difficult choice," Jimena stated, "They can choose to become a guardian spirit, or they can choose to remain on Earth and forget."

Gordon rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Why is that?"

"Why is what?"

"Why do they need to make this choice?" He clarified.

Jimena gave a ghost of a smile, "The world would eventually discover the Daughters, and their powers. Some would eventually exploit them and their gifts," She sighed, "By forcing this choice, Selene protects them. Protects them from normal people, from the Atrox, and from themselves."

"How?"

"Every Daughter has a darker side to them, Mr. Jacobson, just as the moon does." Jimena said, "If it is not monitored, it will in time consume them."

He looked thoughtful, flashes of his past crossing his face as he thought of Emil, "And Zalank," He asked, "You think that she is going to surrender to her dark side tonight." It was not a question.

She hesitated before she inclined her head in the affirmative.

"And you're going to stop her…right?"

Jimena's face fell and she leaned forward, once again cradling her head in her hand, "I don't think that I will be able to."

"Why the hell not?" He demanded, somehow feeling angry at that resolve.

Her head snapped back a little at his crassness, "You need to understand Riley's situation," She paused, "Her mother's neglect and her harsh upbringing has left a painful mark on her soul." Jimena licked her lips in nervousness, "Riley is submissive, uncertain, depressed, and self-isolated. The perfect target for the Atrox."

She eyed him carefully, intrigued by the way his head had jerked back when she had blatantly listed Riley's shortcomings. She paused, thinking. _Why is he taking this almost…personally?_

Gordon narrowed his eyes, his irritation flaring, "So that's it? You're going to give up on her because she's weak?" He spat coarsely.

Jimena glared, "I said nothing about giving up, nor about Riley being weak." Her tone was frigid and cold, "What I meant is that she may not be receptive towards our help."

Gordon inhaled deeply, "Is there a chance?"

"A small one," She answered honestly.

"Then why the hell are we sitting here drinking a goddamn cup of coffee?" He outburst.

She stared at the man in disbelief and a slight newfound respect. He had accepted the information quickly, and his zeal directed against the Atrox was almost…inspiring. Almost.

"May I ask why the enthusiasm?" She asked carefully, hoping against hope she had not just revealed Selene's secrets to a madman.

His back straightened and his eyes narrowed, "No. You may not."

"Why?"

"It's too personal," He snipped.

Jimena tensed, not liking have been refused, "I entrusted you with my story, I think it's only fair that you share yours." She said coolly.

Gordon's lip twitched, "There's nothing to tell." He said, struggling to keep his voice even.

"You're lying to me, Mr. Jacobson. I don't appreciate that."

He stiffened, his eyes trailing back to the mug, "I don't need to tell you anything." He grit out.

"No," Jimena agreed, "But we both know you should."

He exhaled slowly, and Jimena could see the raw pain flashing through his beaten eyes, "It was…it was my son," He started.

_The buzzing of the flies is what first caught his attention. The crushing silence had been abruptly replaced by an irritating, repetitive sound. After that, it was the raw stench. It assailed his nostrils, making him almost gag. His eyes became teary, and he pulled the front of his uniform up to cover his nose and mouth. Anything to avoid that putrid smell._

_It was only after those two things that his visual perception registered._

_Two colors, red and gray. The red had soaked into the carpet, onto the freshly painted white walls, touching and diminishing the purity of all it came into contact with. It stained everything, and a brief thought flickered through his mind that the red would stain. Intermixed was the gray. Bits and pieces of what almost looked like a cotton fluff, mixed and mingled everywhere, against the walls, in the carpet._

_It was then two larger objects caught his attention._

_The first was the shotgun. It was laid across the floor, askew and looking almost impeccably clean, a mocking contrast to the rest of the room. His thoughts traced over the time he had bought the gun, as a present to his son for his sixteenth birthday._

_He wanted to stop his eyes, begged his mind not the process the implications of what he had just seen, yet his eyes moved, and his mind wandered._

_They came to rest on a figure on the ground, what may have once been a boy._

_It was then that Gordon closed his eyes, and slumped to the ground on his knees._

"Your son?" Jimena questioned.

Gordon nodded, hating the feeling he still got, the feeling of suffocation, "Eight years ago…" He trailed off, "Eight years ago my only son, Emil, killed himself."

Jimena startled, but contained her composure, "My apologies," She whispered.

Gordon nodded, digging his fingernails into the palm of his hand, "He was only seventeen. Blew his head off." He stated, his voice becoming steadily detatched, "They, they found a note." He stated.

Jimena said nothing, only looked at him in a sympathetic curiosity.

"It said some rubbish, some rubbish written in Latin," He sent her a meaningful look, "I memorized it right away. It was something like _De duobus malis, minus est semper eligendum._"

"Of two evils, the lesser must always be chosen," Jimena translated, and realization dawned upon her, "Then you think-?"

He nodded, his voice shaky, "I think that Emil may have been one of these Followers."

"I see." Jimena said, again in a whisper.

He blinked, "I think…I know that…I need this…" He stammered, his mind not focusing on coherent sentences.

Jimena studied the harsh, yet broken man, in front of her, and she began to rub her head, trying to find the best way to handle this. Her sluggish eyes drifted to the moon, the moon that she always sought for guidance in these dire hours of need. She felt it constricting around her chest, the doubt, the fear, but more importantly, the hope. She watched Gordon as he hid his head in his hands, muttering something incoherently, and in a brief moment of pity, her heart went out to him.

"What do you need, Mr. Jacobson?" She questioned.

He jerked his head out of his hands, and Jimena was forced to restrain the need to gasp. His eyes were flat, haunted, "I need…I need to stop this." Was all he said.

Jimena nodded, thankful that she did not share his pain, "Well…" She spoke gently, "What do you propose we do to stop this?" She asked.

A spark of something dashed through his emotionless eyes at the encouraging tone of her voice, "Whatever it takes."

And Jimena knew in that instance, that Selene had gained an ally against the darkness.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Trysten exhaled slowly as his car lurched to a stop outside of the apartment complex. The area surrounding them looked pretty much desolate, with no signs of life, even most of the windows were dark, signaling that no one was home.

Trysten resisted a snort; this place screamed typical Tymmie, with its sheer isolation from the rest of the world and its seemingly overbearing overtones that gave the eerie notion of foreboding. He shifted the car into park, and methodically turned the key in the ignition. The car gave a shuddering effect before it turned off.

"Well, we're here." He deadpanned, his eyes trained at the doorway of the building.

Lance shifted in his seat to glare at Murray, "This had better not be a trap." His voice was low and threatening.

Murray squirmed in his seat a little, but the arrogance remained, "Why would I lead the Atrox's once favorite lackey into a trap?"

Lance's dark eyes narrowed, and the rest of the car could sense his patience dwindling dangerously low, "I'm warning you Murray." He spat, slowly unbuckling his seatbelt.

"I warning you Murray," Murray mimicked under his breath bitterly.

Tessa eyed the both of them with annoyance, "Let's get this show on the road," She stated crisply.

Aria exhaled, looking at the ominous building looming before them, and an involuntary shiver ran down her spine. The thought crossed her mind briefly how Riley must be feeling right now. Aria was only looking at the place where her captor lived, and it still gave her the creeps.

Lance stepped out of the car first, the sound of the door closely reverberating a hollowed sound that echoed. Tessa clenched her fist and then followed after him, dragging a rather reluctant Murray out with her by his elbow. Finally it was just Aria and Trysten sitting in the car.

Aria stared long and hard at the hands clasped in her lap, fear pounding in her chest so loudly she was sure he could hear. Inhaling shakily, she sent another furtive glance to the apartment building. Tymmie was somewhere in there, and she momentarily felt herself paralyzed with fear. He was stronger than all of them, perhaps with the exception of Trysten.

But then another thought entered her mind, this one stronger than the first; Riley was in there too.

And Riley was currently at Tymmie's mercy.

She shot a look at the oddly hesitant Trysten before following Tessa out the door of the car.

Trysten just sat there, knowing he had to move, yet his body unwilling to submit to his mental directions. Sluggishly, he stared out the window to see Tessa already storming towards the door, while Lance tried to hold her back, and he almost laughed at the slightly comical sight.

Well, he would have, if his throat wasn't so damn choked up.

He drummed his fingers along the steering wheel as he mentally prepped himself. Tonight he would have his long-delayed reunion with the man who had ruined his life. Tymmie had been the ultimate betrayer, and he wanted nothing more than to confront him once and for all. His mouth suddenly felt very dry, Tymmie was going to cross Riley over tonight, and soon. He felt it in his gut.

Trysten couldn't let that happen.

Sighing, he unbuckled his seat belt, and rested his hand on the handle of the door-

-but he paused.

His head snapped up, and his eyes became trained to the darkened alleyways that started on the side of the building. There was a presence, he could feel it slowly coming closer, overwhelming him. He tensed, and tapped into his telepathy, trying to sense who it was that had caused such a reaction.

The world seemed to become still when he recognized the presence as none other than Tymmie. He focused more on the thought pattern, trying to see if Riley was somehow with him. He flinched when his telepathy was suddenly violently blocked. Tymmie had sensed him as well.

He got out of the door quickly, and looked to Lance, who appeared to have a similar reaction. "I felt him a moment ago," He said calmly, his tone betraying the frantic thud of his heart.

Lance inclined his head and sighed, "I did too." His head swiveled towards the alley, "There?" He asked, slightly uncertain.

Trysten nodded grimly.

"What's going on with you?" Tessa demanded, popping a hip in impatience.

Murray let out a heartless chuckle, "Tymmie's coming."

Aria and Tessa both visibly paled.

"What?" Aria whispered.

Lance shot her an irritated look, but Trysten answered blankly, "He's felt our, or at least my, presence. He knows we're here." As an afterthought, he added, "Get ready to fight."

Murray smirked, "You're no match for Tymmie," He commented dryly. Murray hated his leader, but he had enough sense to respect his power.

Tessa looked at the Follower in distaste, "You know, there isn't really a need for a guide anymore, is there?" She questioned innocently.

Trysten restrained himself a faint laugh from the implication behind her words, "No, there isn't."

Tessa let a devilish grin contort her features, "Wonderful." She said, closing her eyes and focusing strongly on her captive, a hazy golden glow formed slowly around Murray's head and he froze before his head slumped down to his chest and he collapsed onto the ground. Tessa smirked and gave herself a mental pat on the back for a job well done. The creep had been annoying the hell out of her all night.

Her attention was quickly diverted away from the unconscious Murray, however, when she heard Aria give a sharp intake of breath. Tessa turned her head to look at her fellow goddess, and paused when she saw her eyes trained to the opening of the alleyway. Following her gaze, Tessa felt her jaw drop as she saw two figures emerge from the shadows.

The first person she saw was undoubtedly Tymmie. She remembered him vaguely from when he had almost crossed her over two months prior, and she had to quell a shudder of disgust. His mere presence was terrifying, as he was dressed entirely in black, his long trench coat flapping in the wind and creating the feeling that he was comprised entirely of shadows.

Tessa backed up slightly when she saw his yellow glowing eyes peering from behind a few stray pieces of black hair. The light of the moon reflected off some of his numerous silver piercings, giving him the sinister look of a demon.

"Let me handle him," Came Trysten's constant monotone, tensing into a somewhat fighting stance.

Lance said nothing, but also prepared for a fight against the slowly approaching figure.

Tessa stared at him, and her breathing rapidly increased when she realized that he was not alone. Behind him, a figure followed closely, and Tessa squinted, trying to make out the person's features, hoping against hope that it was Riley.

When the person with Tymmie stepped under a streetlight, Tessa felt a grin breaking on her face when she saw the maroon hair. Although she was too far away to see the features of this person, she knew that it had to be her, after all, how many people in this world had that shade of hair color?

Unable to contain herself, she broke into a sprint at seeing Riley again, her boots echoing against the pavement.

"Tessa, no-!" Lance called after her as she ran towards whom she thought was Riley.

Tessa paid him no heed, and by the time she had reached her destination it was too late. Tessa recoiled when she was close enough to see the person's face.

This wasn't Riley.

Riley's eyes did not glow yellow under the moon.

Taking a careful evaluation, Tessa noticed that the woman before her was maybe about twice Riley's age, yet there were some blatantly similar characteristics. The maroon hair, the body frame, and some of the facial structure indicated that Tessa was staring at Riley in about fifteen years. She paused, suddenly realizing her grave mistake as she looked upon the woman who could only be Cassandra, Riley's mother, for the first time.

"Now what do we have here?" Cassandra drawled in a lack of amusement, and Tessa was shocked at the harshness of her voice. She had expected her to sound somewhat like Riley, mellow and soft.

Tymmie snorted besides her, "Looks like the rescue team has arrived," He said, and Tessa immediately discovered that she didn't like his patronizing tone.

"Where's Riley?" She heard from behind her, she turned to see Trysten standing there, Lance by his side, and Aria hanging back.

Tymmie's head jerked at the sound of her name, a dark glare entered his eyes, "Don't know." He spat.

Trysten froze and crossed his arms, "Don't play dumb with me." He growled.

Cassandra stared at him for a moment, her breath caught in her throat as she realized who it was in front of her, "Stan-" Her voice trailed off and she shook her head, mentally berating herself for her stupidity, "You must be Trysten."

He nodded, and stared at her, noticing the uncanny resemblance her and her daughter shared, excepting the one key factor, the lack of hate that was in Riley's eyes, "You must be Cassandra." He stated.

Cassandra's eyes drifted to his other companion and a snort escaped her lips, "You? What are you doing here?"

Lance glared at her, "Repaying a debt." Was all he said cryptically, "You would know all about that, wouldn't you, Cassandra?"

She flinched and sneered at him, "Shut the hell up," She said crassly.

Tessa and Aria watched the spectacle unravel before them silently, neither feeling that they were in a place to object or argue. All they could truly do was watch the interaction between those cursed by the Atrox.

Trysten and Tymmie continued in their stare down, and the girls assumed that they were having some type of telepathic conversation, but it was broken suddenly, as Tymmie looked away from Trysten's eyes.

"Go away Trysten," Was all he said, his voice loosing its mocking quality to be replaced with something on par with regret, "Tonight's not your night."

In response, he stared at Tymmie, "That's not an option."

Tymmie snorted, "Why not? Because of your ridiculous morals?" He shook his head, "Be selfish for once Trysten, run away."

"No."

"You don't want to get involved tonight," Tymmie continued.

"I know. But I have to." Trysten's words were clipped and even.

Aria stared at the two in some form of wonder, was it just her, or was Tymmie warning Trysten?

"You don't have to do anything," Tymmie countered, his fist clenching tightly, "Riley's out of both of our reaches."

Trysten allowed a mild look of shock to grace his features, "What do you mean?"

Tymmie was about to answer, but Cassandra cut him off, "Don't you say a word." She growled.

Tymmie considered her words and nodded his consent to them. It was wisest to leave them out of this, for them to ignore Riley's unfortunate predicament. She was already doomed, no need for the Atrox to suffer an entanglement against the rag-tag group that consisted of Trysten, the former Immortal, and two Goddesses.

"Where is Riley?" Trysten reiterated, glaring harshly at Cassandra, who met his stare.

"Why should we tell you?" She hissed darkly.

"Because I'm going to save her," The way Trysten spoke, it was finite. It was not an empty promise; it was an oath.

"What makes you think you can?" Cassandra scoffed.

Tymmie said nothing, he only stood next to Cassandra and evaluated Trysten, waiting for his answer.

"Because I'm the one the Atrox truly wants," Trysten hated the way his voice shook slightly towards the end of his statement.

Cassandra gave a short laugh, "How clueless are you little boy?" She said in a patronizing tone.

"What do you mean?"

"You think the Atrox just made Riley a Lecta to get to you? Wake up!" Her words were cruel.

Lance interjected, "They hold Trysten in a higher regard than Riley, and we all know they would eagerly make the switch."

"No they wouldn't," Tymmie spoke up, "The Atrox can sense Trysten's weakening resolve as it is, and both are primary targets."

"Why Riley?" Aria said, her curiosity no longer containing itself, "Why choose her to become a Lecta?"

Cassandra sneered at her, "That's information you are not to know."

"That's bullshit!" Tessa cut in, "Tell us right now!"

The look Cassandra sent her had her next outburst dying in her throat, "You think you're the tough one, don't you?" Cassandra purred, "I've seen your type so many times over the years. You aren't tough, you're weak in your ignorance."

Tessa went rigid and her nostrils flared slightly, "You don't know what the hell you're talking about!" She proclaimed.

Cassandra waved her hand dismissively at her and ignored the reaction. Instead she focused her attention of Trysten, "Why would you be willing to sacrifice your freedom for hers?" She wondered, regarding his proposal of a switch.

Trysten looked her dead in the eyes, "She's just like me." He whispered, "Torn between two worlds, condemned by her parents' sins," He stared at her pointedly as he said this, but she didn't look away, "She had no choice in the matter, she was doomed since birth."

"Which is why she can't be saved," Tymmie said, causing Trysten to look at him in distaste, "It's the truth, Trysten. You are right, she was doomed since birth, there's no going back." He inhaled, "She is like you in that perspective."

Trysten bristled, "I refuse to believe there's no way out for her."

Tymmie just stared at him and his voice was soft when he spoke, "She's means a lot to you, doesn't she? Not just her situation, but her."

Trysten considered his words before he nodded, "Yes."

"Enough that you would throw away your freedom?" Tymmie prodded, "Answer carefully."

The words rested heavily on his mind, but he nodded. Lance sighed heavily and placed his hands in his pockets, expecting, but not pleased, with Trysten's answers.

Tymmie chewed on his lip piercing, "Then I'm not going to stop you." He paused, "The choice is yours alone." Tymmie's thoughts unwilling drifted to the semi-speech Riley had given him before she had run off, about how she resented her qualities, how she wasn't ready to give up completely. When he looked at Trysten, he could see those same traits in him, and he silently registered that if there was a chance to save Riley, he would be the only one who could do it. He looked at Cassandra for confirmation, but she was remaining oddly enough, silent.

Trysten did not question Tymmie's bizarre response, instead he took advantage of the situation, "Where is she?"

Tymmie sighed, "The Regulator, Isaac, has her." He stared at Trysten, his eyes glowing, "She doesn't have a lot of time."

Trysten nodded, "Thank you." He said, his voice so quiet he was sure no one heard him. He turned around abruptly and headed for his car. Tessa and Aria eyeing the pair of Followers warily before going after him, finally there was only Lance, Tymmie and Cassandra left.

"You know that you've condemned him," Lance said bitterly.

Tymmie shrugged, his nonchalant attitude returning to him, "I can not change or make his decision, Zahi, and neither can you."

Lance flinched slightly at the usage of his old name, but composed himself, "I won't let him fall." He said more to himself than to his Follower counterparts.

Tymmie said nothing, but gestured his head towards Trysten's, once Stanton's, black car, "You had better go."

Lance nodded, and turned around sharply.

As soon as the car was out of eyesight, Tymmie turned to Cassandra, "Go ahead, let me hear it." He said bitterly.

There was a silence.

"C'mon, tell me I'm an idiot, a disgrace, you've gotten quite good at it over the years," Tymmie chided.

When the silence continued, Tymmie looked at her in curiosity, "What's gotten into you?" He stated.

Cassandra only merely shook her head, "He's not like his father." Was all she said.

"That's a good thing," Tymmie answered.

Cassandra sighed, the feelings constricting within her taking a toll on her well-being. She wanted Riley safe, she wanted her to be free from the Atrox like Cassandra would never be. But that lingering hope had always been overpowered by the doubts, and the harsh facts of sheer reality. There was no escape for Riley, not now, not ever.

Yet…

When he had said those few words, that look in his eye had almost convinced her, she shook her head, reprimanding herself as she watched the black car becoming smaller and smaller in the distance.

"I hope so." She said softly, almost to herself, but Tymmie caught it. She turned around and walked away from the scene, and it wasn't long before she disappeared into the shadows, leaving Tymmie behind.

His thoughts kept mulling over the words Riley had said.

"I may be consumed by my own evil, and I may hold hatred in my heart. But I resent those qualities. I don't embrace them, I have not given up yet."

Inwardly, he hoped that she was right, hoped that she was stronger than him. That she wouldn't give up, and that she would keep fighting, if only for a little while longer.

The alternatives were too bleak to consider.

Tymmie stared at the ground, and he noticed the facedown form of none other than _Infidus _lackey Murray. He sighed, deducting that he must have served as a guide to Trysten and the rest of them. He knew eventually, he would have to wake him up andinformthe rest of _Infidus _of the circumstances. But at the moment, he simply couldn't muster up enoughtenergy to care.

His eyes drifted to the horizon and the Los Angeles traffic that constantly graced the city.He groaned as he soon found himself worrying about Trysten, yet for some reasonworrying even more over Riley.

He didn't want to admit to himself why.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Oy. This chapter's FINALLY done. This was a beastly chap to write, nineteen pages long. :goes crazy: Hope you liked it!

_Next up_: Riley's rude awakening. A possible fluffy moment too, if I'm in the mood.

That's all .

!nym!


	19. 15 Mad World

_Night's Children: Nox Noctis_

**AN: Sorry this chap took so long! My internet crashed::shakes fist at sky: damn you dial-up!**

Alright, there's some fluff in here as promised, figure you guys deserved it after the last few angsty chapters. Also, the Art-Catty part might seem a bit confusing, but after I post the prolog for the trio's side story _Dum Spiro, Spero_ it won't be so mind-boggling, so um…please trust me?

Haha, yes I stole the chapter title from a Tears for Fears song…sue me…actually…please don't sue me…

Oh! Also, the game Riley and Imy are playing is Trouble ™, it was big in the mid-nineties when I was kid I do not own it.

**Chapter Fifteen: Mad World**

Riley groaned as she rolled over, wincing as a sharp pain jarred throughout her skull. She opened and closed her mouth slowly, grimacing at the dry sensation in it. Her thoughts quickly processed the fact that she had been knocked out, and gradually the memories of what had happened resurfaced. She progressively creaked open her eyes, blinking away the blurriness creeping around the edges.

Her tired and strained eyes crept around her surroundings, processing the situation. She was in a room, a room that was horribly plain and lacked any distinguishing features. Four white walls, one wooden door, with a regular light overhead. Little by little it dawned upon her that she had been sleeping on a bed, a bed with a thick black comforter and white sheets.

She was on her stomach, and as she tried to sit up, she realized that her wrists were bound behind her back with what she assumed was rope, her ankles tied in a similar manner. She exhaled noisily in frustration as it became painfully apparent that she was yet again a captive.

Her eyes widened as she suddenly remembered whom it was that held her prisoner. Isaac. She shuddered, recalling his snake-like mannerisms, and how he had snuck in that cheap shot during their fight that had rendered her unconscious. The man was ruthless, and she felt that if she couldn't escape from him, it would all be over.

Riley squirmed her wrists a bit, trying to get the ropes to give so she could wiggle her hands free, but it was to no avail, they had been securely fastened. She swore to herself, and tried again, this time with her feet. Nothing. She rolled over so that she was on her back, and stared at the bindings around her ankles, mentally willing them to fall off.

Her head ached, and the throbbing pain returned, she groaned, and slumped her head against the surprisingly comfortable pillow. "Damn." She whispered to herself as she felt the room around her start to spin, "What the hell did he do?"

She drew her eyes closed and deepened her breathing, trying to quell the rising urge to scream out in pain as the discomfort increased. She wondered briefly if this was a result of the one attack, or had Isaac been prying into her mind while she was unconscious?

The thought sickened her, and she tried to resist the emotion of anger bubbling up inside of her before it overcame her rationality.

She looked around the room again, trying to find something sharp. She grunted, disappointed when all she saw in this room other than the bed was a nightstand with a lamp on it.

Think Riley, think! She scolded herself before her eyes rested on the light bulb within the lamp. She smiled slightly, feeling a little reassurance. Light bulbs were made of glass, and glass was easily shattered. And shattered glass was sharp enough to cut the ropes.

She flopped like a fish across the bed for a few moments, attempting to get close enough to knock the lamp off of the stand. As soon as she did, she swung her legs around, content when she heard it fall to the ground.

Her face fell, however, when she noticed that all she had accomplished was knocking the shade off, as the light bulb still remained intact.

Sighing, she rolled over until she was at the edge of the bed, struggling for a few moments, she was finally able to sit up. Creasing her eyebrows, she tried to aim the heels of her bound feet for the light bulb, praying she wouldn't miss.

Mentally counting to three, she leaned off the bed and gave a grunt of happy satisfaction when she heard the light bulb shatter against the hard wooden floors, the pain of falling off momentarily forgotten. Rolling off of the lamp, she scrambled with her hands tied to grasp a piece of broken glass, wincing slightly as stray shards pierced her hands.

Finally, she wrapped her fingers around a larger piece and gave a breath of relief. After a few more moments of fidgeting with the shard she adjusted it into a position where she could begin to saw at the rope. Moving her hands back and forth she almost cheered when she felt the rope starting to give slack, meaning that she was cutting through.

The rope snapped apart, and she quickly released her hands from it, wincing slightly as she rubbed the burn marks. She make a grunt of distaste when she saw the small rivulets of blood pouring from where she had pierced them on the glass. Riley sighed and began to pick the shards out. As she had almost completed the process, she froze when she heard footsteps approaching.

Quickly, she began to work on the ropes around her legs with the shard of glass, hissing slightly at the agitation it caused her injured hands. Riley's face contorted in a mixture of severe concentration and severe worry. They couldn't catch her, she had to get out of there **now.**

"What the hell was all the noise?" She heard a female voice come from beyond the door.

"She's awake," The latter, who had sounded like Isaac, responded.

"Shit." Riley swore for the second time that night as she noticed there wouldn't be enough time to free herself from the bindings.

Her head snapped up when she heard the door creak open and she froze, paralyzed in her fear.

It had been Isaac who had opened the door, and he stood there, sneering at her. His leather coat had been discarded revealing bony, frail-looking arms peaking out from a shredded black tank top. His lip twitched, portraying his annoyance at her actions. But, Riley noticed with grim satisfaction, his lip was cracked and there was some discoloration around his eyes, indicating that Riley had broken his nose in their previous fight.

"What in Hera's name-!" Came the voice Riley had heard earlier as a girl entered behind Isaac.

She was thin, with jagged and bleached white hair that hung a little lower than her chin. Her features were sharp but attractive in a stern manner, and she looked to be about eighteen years old. A thick, leather dog collar was fastened around her neck, and her eyes were such an amazing shade of sapphire that Riley suspected they were color contacts. She wore tight, black leather pants that hung low on her hips, and a fishnet tank with nothing but a black bra underneath. Her eyes were keen and sharp as she scrutinized Riley and the mess she had made on the floor.

Riley tensed, expecting some type of hard hit from either Isaac or the mystery girl as both seemed to be openly glaring at her with fury. She lowered her head and tried to draw Selene's power, preparing for an attack.

However, when she heard a low, melodic laugh she froze. She looked up slowly from her bloodied hands to see the girl chuckling at her in amusement.

"I like her already," She stated, her voice softer than Riley expected it to be.

Isaac huffed, "Stupid," He directed at the mystery girl, then sent her a look of deep annoyance before he exited quickly out of the room in a storm, "I'll be back in a moment, don't let her out of your sight." He called back to the platinum haired one.

Riley dropped the glass shard she had been holding and stared at the girl in disbelief. Not only had she not reprimanded her for trying to escape, but she had made Isaac leave the room, something she was extremely grateful for.

"What's your name, _Lecta_?" The girl asked good-naturedly, sitting on an end of the bed, "I go by December."

"Um, Riley," She said, still rather amazed at her uncharacteristic attitude.

December inclined her head, "Zalank, right?"

She nodded.

December looked towards the door, "Sorry about Isaac, guy always was a bastard."

Riley evaluated her for a moment, trying to get a read off of her emotions, but was disappointed to find nothing, "Where am I?" She stated.

She snorted, "You are at the flat Isaac, Dorian, and I share."

"Dorian?"

December sent Riley a look that was almost regretful, "Yeah, you're going to be meeting him soon."

Riley wanted to ask why it was going to be so horrible, but decided that it was better not to know, "Why is Isaac after me?" She questioned her.

"You're the _Lecta_, it's his job," She stated blandly, beginning to pick at her fingernails, "He's part of a special group of Regulators, the ones that hunt down _Lecti_."

There was a silence as December stared at her nails and Riley stared at her. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, what had started out so simple had ended in total chaos. Riley pried her gaze away from the Follower, staring at her legs, slowly she unraveled the remaining rope that piled around them and kicked herself free.

"You're _Incinti_." It wasn't a question.

"Mmhmm." December affirmed, dropping her hand down to the bed, "Heard you got caught up with its counterpart," She grimaced in slight distaste, "_Infidi_." She scoffed, "Bunch of losers."

Riley's thoughts returned to Tymmie, and she felt that odd stabbing sensation in her chest again, "Yeah." She whispered to herself, looking at her bloodstained hands.

"You want something for them?" Her guard asked, referring to her hands.

"No thank you," Riley muttered, for some reason enjoying the stings the glass created. It took the attention away from the fact that she was trapped yet again. "Why are you being so-?" She stopped herself, about to say nice, but instead settled on a different word, "Courteous to me?"

The white-haired girl shrugged her shoulders, "Figure you're going to be one of us soon," She looked at Riley's hands, "And you've got guts." She made a face, "Not like all of the other prissy ex-goddesses I know."

Riley stifled a chuckle full of dark humor, "You make it sound like I'm choosing to be here."

December sent her a meaningful look, "Aren't you?"

Riley exhaled, the conversation was already becoming similar to the one she had earlier that night with Tymmie. What was she doing here? The nightmares had led her to Cassandra, Cassandra had led her to hate, and hate had led her to Tymmie, Tymmie to Isaac. It was all a macabre chain event, and the more she resisted, the more she found herself being pulled down into the torrent of her own corrupted soul.

But that wasn't the issue; the issue was could she stop it?

She wasn't so sure anymore, it all seemed to be fading from her control.

A forced chuckle interrupted her musings, "Why so glum, Riley? Tonight's your big night." December stated.

Riley made an expression of distaste, thoughts about Trysten, Tymmie, Cassandra, Imy, and the other Daughters filling her mind. She clenched her hand into a fist, ignoring the pain that filled as she imbedded the shards deeper, "I could escape." She whispered.

"But you won't." December reminded her, not saying that she couldn't, but saying that she wouldn't even attempt to.

"I want to," She whispered, digging a few shards out.

December gave her a remorseful, pitying smile, "I know. I did too."

"The people I care about will get hurt," She said brokenly.

The older girl sighed, "Unfortunately, that's what always happens."

"I won't betray them," Riley said, her voice growing more resolved.

December rose an eyebrow, "Why not? What's so special about them?" She asked, and Riley didn't need to be an empath to hear the bitterness in the statement.

"They don't deserve it," Riley kept her words to clips and phrases, not trying to instigate an unnecessary confrontation. She had enough of those already tonight.

"And you do?" December shot back.

Riley stared at her hands, and twisted a silver ring around her finger, "Yes." She whispered. She would gladly suffer if it meant that those she cared for were protected, and sadly, what they needed to be protected from was herself. Deep down, Riley knew that was the only reason she had not caved into the darkness yet, she had to keep fighting, for their sakes. If she fell, Trysten and the other Daughters would fall with her. She would not allow that to happen.

"You realize that the more you struggle, the worse your fate will seem." December said absently, picking up one of Riley's shattered pieces of glass and scrapping dirt from under her fingernails.

Riley swallowed, recalling Tymmie's earlier words, about the continuous half existence that all those tainted by the Atrox felt until they surrendered, how evading was torture. "I know."

"Why not just take the easy way out?" December chided, leaning back on her elbows.

Riley stared at her in confusion, "No offense intended, but why is a Follower so interested in my well-being?"

Her pale face darkened, "Because not too long ago, I was you." She sighed and ran a hand through her jagged hair, "Not a _Lecta_, that came later, but I was once _Invitus_. My hope was robbed, yet I had not yet crossed over fully to the Atrox. I was stuck in that terrible ultimatum, fighting every day against my darker cravings because I thought it made me stronger," She huffed, "Now I realize that resisting only made me weaker. You are what you are, Riley, embrace it."

"I don't want to embrace it," She stated her fingers clenching again, the pain all but forgotten.

December sent her a look of pity and understanding, "No one ever does, no one wholly accepts the fact that they are destined to be dead inside." She sat up from her slumped posture, "But what I'm afraid you don't understand, is that if you don't accept it yourself, someone will force your decision for you."

Her eyebrows drew together, "What are you saying?"

She sighed, "Tonight, Riley, you **are **going to recognize what's inside of you, either voluntarily…" She chose her words carefully, grimacing in distaste, "Or by peer pressure."

Riley felt her jaw go slack, she understood that the Atrox wanted to cross her over tonight, but what December was suggesting is that they would drive her to becoming something evil, a creature or monster totally devoid of compassion. This went beyond a basic robbing of hope, for most Followers still held shreds of humanity; this was complete and total conversion. A chill spread throughout her, if she didn't escape, she would become like Tymmie or like Cassandra, dead inside far sooner and with no resistance.

"How…" She faltered, then took a calming breath, "How are they planning on doing this?"

The older girl gave a lopsided grin without any emotion attached to it, "Dorian. And Isaac."

"And what will they do?"

"Isaac and Dorian are what you would call…specialists." December explained, "Both are valuable tools to the _Incinti_ for converting _Lecti_. Isaac is the muscle behind the operation; he's a Regulator who's been given innate tracking abilities by the Atrox. His job is simple, bring the Chosen in, and keep guard over them until the task gets handed over to Dorian."

"And then?" Riley asked, hating how her voice shook slightly.

"Dorian is the best mind-manipulator that the Atrox has," December stated, "And his purpose is simple as well." Her features took a sharp edge to them, "His purpose is to break the _Lecti_."

"Break?"

"Yes." Her tone was somber, "Riley, please, take my advice, and surrender willingly. You don't want Dorian to do it for you."

Riley grit her teeth in a mixture of aggravation and a begrudgedly admitted fear. She was no idiot, she knew that the affects of someone maneuvering with your mind and psyche were much more damaging than the now seemingly petty blows she had administered with Isaac. Although she didn't trust December, how could she after knowing her for only a few moments, she could sense no emotions indicating deceit around her. This Dorian was good at what he did, and the logical and safe choice would be to avoid the conflict with him.

"Well?" December prompted, hoping that the young girl in front of her would succumb to her shortcomings rather than submit to the terror someone like Dorian would have in store for her. December herself had been a victim of Dorian's ministrations after she had first crossed over.

The Follower studied the Goddess, watching how her fist would keep sporadically clenching and unclenching, no doubt irritating the self-inflicted wounds. Her maroon hair was tousled and gave her an almost fragile-looking appearance, and the Follower's icy heart went out to the newly appointed _Lecta_, knowing exactly what she was going through.

"I can't surrender," Riley said regretfully, "You don't understand the repercussions if I do."

December quirked an eyebrow, despite herself intrigued, "What are those?"

Riley sighed and not for the first time that night her hand went over the base of her throat, where the amulet was normally displayed proudly, "Too many people depend on me," She elaborated, "And if I were to fall to the Atrox, their fates would be sealed."

December rolled her eyes, familiar with the argument, "The fellow Daughters would be able to function more efficiently without having to worry about your crossing over." She said pointedly, "Your presence would distract them, and they would function more as your babysitter than soldiers of Selene."

Riley's head jerked back a bit, as she processed the information, but nevertheless she chewed her lower lip, "It's not just the Daughters of Selene who depend on me." She stated.

She tilted her head, amused, "Oh? And who else?"

"My friend."

"That's rather blunt, isn't it?" December laughed.

"I'm a rather blunt person," Riley responded, not wanting to reveal Trysten's predicament to a Follower loyal to the _Incinti_.

"Hmph," She said, looking slightly put out, "Suit yourself."

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door creaking open in the distance, followed by muffled conversation. December's head jerked up and she stared at the closed bedroom door, "Shit." She whispered, standing up and smoothing imaginary wrinkles in her pants.

Riley looked at her in curiosity, "What's wrong?"

December pressed a finger to her lips, indicating for Riley to be silent. Riley strained her ears, and was able to make out the two voices, one definitely belonging to Isaac, the other deep, timorous, and unknown. She paled, Dorian, the owner of the other voice had to be him, the frantic gazes from December only affirming her assumption.

She tensed, as the footsteps drew nearer, trembling, she hesitantly shut her eyes and drew her power from Selene, hoping it would be enough yet knowing it wouldn't. December looked at her in awe as she saw the grayish haze forming around her.

"That won't work," She chided the younger girl, who only shot her a glance of irritation with dilated pupils.

"I know," She muttered back.

December was unable to respond, as the door swung open violently, Isaac entering the room. He sent one acidic glance at December, "Get out." He stated.

Her face flushed and she bit her lower lip in anger, but she contained it and dipped her head slightly, turning on her heel and going out of the room.

Riley felt whatever spark of courage she had previously fizzle out and die when it was only Isaac and her, as he stared at her with a detatched fury. She felt herself freeze in terror and anxiety when Isaac stepped aside and the person who could only be Dorian entered behind him.

He was tall, with coffee colored hair that was pulled back in a small ponytail at the base of his neck. Five o'clock shadow littered his angular face and his eyes, dark and intimidating, seemed to be sizing her up.

Isaac walked closer to her, smiling wickedly as he let a heavy hand rest on one of her shoulders, "I hope you're ready, little Riley." He said, his voice sending shivers up her spine.

She jerked away from his touch and backed up, still calling upon reserves of her dwindling power. Shutting her eyes and outstretching a bloodied hand, she tried desperately to will the feeling of fatigue upon him. Isaac swayed slightly where he stood as the emotion hit him, slumping against the edge of the bed and breathing heavily and even. Riley almost did a victory dance, as her powers were obviously starting to have effect on the Regulator, and it looked like just one more small push would have him asleep.

It would have worked perfectly, had Riley not forgotten the other Follower in the room. Faster than humanly possible, Dorian clamped a hand around her wrist, twisting it behind her back and forcing her to drop down on her knees. Riley's eyes snapped open, amazed at his incredible speed. The action caused her to loose her concentration, however, and Isaac stood up, his tiredness dispelled instantly, his eyes glaring daggers at her.

"Nice trick," Isaac sneered in contempt, "I'm beginning to think you're more trouble than you're worth, _dea_."

Riley squirmed in the stoic Dorian's grip, but he held her strongly.

"This is Dorian," Isaac introduced, to which Dorian still remained silent, scrutinizing the back of Riley's maroon head intently. "Dorian is here if you decide to not cooperate with us."

"I know why he's here," Riley spat, still trying to let loose her aching wrist.

Isaac's eyebrows shot up, "Do you now? Well then, this will be much easier."

Riley stared at him in what she hoped was defiance, and not in the dread she felt tightening around her chest, "I won't surrender to the Atrox." She announced, ecstatic when her voice was steady and collected instead of being quaky and meek.

Had she been facing him, she would have seen Dorian's blank countenance transform into a sadistic and almost feral grin at her statement.

Isaac exhaled through his nostrils in annoyance, "Of course you won't," He mumbled in irritation to himself, "Fine by me, you're just prolonging the inevitable." He said more smoothly, gathering the cut pieces of rope off of the floor and making his way over, "Besides, I suppose it isn't fair to cheat Dorian out of his fun."

Riley's face gave away nothing, despite the fact that she had paled a few shades. Isaac wrapped and securely tied the fragments around her wrists yet again while Dorian held them in place. Gripping his long fingers around her bicep, Isaac hoisted her off of her knees and dragged her to the edge of the bed, where she was forced into a sitting position.

"Well then, let's get started." Isaac said, glancing at Dorian who nodded in return.

Riley felt Dorian's calloused hand grip under her chin, and she struggled frantically, knowing to look into his eyes would be her doom. But his hold was firm and he eventually forced her to make eye contact with him.

All Riley could see was the gleaming yellow of his irises before she felt herself dragged into the darkness.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Art sighed as he shifted on the worn couch, his back sore and his mind sorer. His eyes drifted over to the extra weight that had accumulated on his left side and he smiled slightly at the picture of the sleeping Imy. Despite her worry and concern over her best friend's current situation, the fatigue from the trying day had gotten to her, and with light coaxing from Art and a promise that he would wake her up if he heard anything, she consented and surrendered to her drooping eyelids. Her head currently rested on his shoulder, and somehow their fingers had gotten interlaced, not that he minded. His smile grew; it almost felt like old times.

Almost. In the old times, she hadn't known that there was evil festering inside of him like an infection festered in an open wound. In the old times, she had trusted him, Trysten had his sanity under tighter wraps, and Riley wasn't on the path to becoming a monster.

In the old times, she had made him feel human again. Even if it was only temporary.

He brought the hand up that wasn't pinned under her and rubbed the side of his face; his life seemed to be constantly lived in the temporary stage. This hope was temporary, for instance, as was his freedom.

But right now, that temporary state gave him the will to continue.

His thoughts drifted back to the time when he had first discovered the ideal of humanity. Born a slave, it was such a strange and foreign concept, to be free to live your life how you wanted to. Yet now he would die to defend that ideal, and he had both the sleeping girl at his side to thank, and her mother.

He remembered the first time he had ever seen a Goddess, and it had been Catty, when he was ten years old and serving as an attendant in her father's home. He had led her away from the pursuing Regulators at her father's command, and had been rewarded with her smile. The smile that he had been indebted to for stirring up his want to be free.

It was only fitting that now he found himself wrapped around her daughter's finger.

Imy shifted in her sleep, unknowingly leaning against him even closer, her uninjured arm hooked around his waist and her head pressed against his chest. A bittersweet smile crossed his face, if she had been awake, she would have been guarded, paranoid of him and the darkness brewing inside. But in her sleep, she held no resolves against him, and he could pretend.

Carefully, he brought the arm that was under her and wrapped it gently around her shoulders, mindful of her dislocated one and bruised ribs, resting his head on top of hers. Hesitantly, he inhaled deeply before lightly kissing the top of her hair, tightening his grip but not to the point of hurting her. He never wanted to hurt her.

Art mentally warned himself that she would be angry when she woke up in this position, but he discarded it. It was a rare moment of comfort and he would cherish it and accept the consequences when they came.

"I'm sorry." He whispered to her, and he was. He was sorry for lying to her about what he was, sorry about her situation with Riley, sorry for the burden of her destiny, but more importantly, he was sorry he had ever let her get away from him.

"Me too."

He startled, shifting his head to look at the brunette, who currently had her face pressed against his chest, one of her hands tightening around his shirt. Slowly, her body shifted and she turned to look at him with her damning golden eyes and he felt himself become speechless.

There were no words for a long stretch of time, Imy simply stared into his green eyes, feelings that had been circling in her heart and head for the past two months resurfacing in an almost painful way. She had missed him, "You lied to me," She finally muttered, breaking the silence.

Art nodded, swallowing, "I had to."

Imy chewed on her lip piercing again in a nervous habit, and Art found his gaze following the movement, "I know. That's why I'm sorry."

She waited patiently for a reaction, and blushed slightly when she noticed where Art's attention was focused, she cleared her throat, and Art's eyes immediately snapped back to hers, embarrassed at having been caught.

"I should have been more accepting," She continued, "I made you ashamed of what you are."

Art exhaled, "I don't hold it against you, I was already ashamed," He gave her a weak, but genuine, smile, "Besides, it's kind of in the Atrox-fighting package, isn't it? Daughters aren't supposed to be accepting of Followers."

Imy tore her stare away and began to fidget with the cuffs of her shirt, "But you never were a Follower, and you weren't a _servus_ by choice. It would be like you hating me for being born a Daughter."

"I won't ever hate you," He admitted, and he meant it.

She looked taken aback for a moment at the statement, but continued, finally letting the emotions that had been settling on her chest for the past two months go, "I was afraid, and because I was afraid, I hurt you."

"You did." He said gently, knowing he couldn't lie to her, "But I think you hurt yourself more."

She breathed in shakily, unaccustomed to being this serious in a conversation, "I missed you." She spoke softly.

Imy felt his fingers tilt her chin up to look at him, cold but comforting. "I missed you too."

She looked at the earnest and hopeful face, and the stirrings in her chest prevailed over her thoughts for the first time in a while. Without hesitation, and ignoring the aching in her ribs, she lifted her face up the few inches and brought her lips to his.

Art froze, pleasantly surprised, and he kissed her back, simple and warm. There was no need to go further and deepen it, not at the moment, and both of them were content to just sit there next to each other. His other hand rose from her shoulders to gently press the back of her head, and her hand tightened around her fistful of his shirt.

It was Art who broke the kiss, pulling back, and he almost chuckled from the put out expression on Imy's face, "You're injured." He stated matter-of-factly, stopping the wonderful sensation against his wishes as reason got the better of him, knowing that if it progressed it would aggravate her shoulder and ribs even more.

She grunted, too happy with her current circumstance to put up an argument, it felt as if a huge burden had been lifted from her shoulders, replaced with something strange and scary, but not in an unpleasant way. "You always were a dork." She said, but not in a demeaning way.

He almost laughed, a feeling of elation filling him as he remembered her old carefree attitude towards him, and how it was slowly resurfacing, "Geek." He replied, as she resumed her position, placing her cheek against his chest.

They both knew that this moment would have to eventually end, that in a few seconds, the feelings of doubt and fear for their friends would resurface, and they would have to progress towards that constant state of uncertainty and hopelessness, and would have to resume trying to save the world from the inevitable evil.

But right now, they were comfortable.

And right now, both of them were perfectly fine with being selfish.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

_It was very cold._

_Those were the first thoughts that entered Riley's head, as she hid under the kitchen's plastic table counter, her knees brought to her chest and her gray eyes peaking out from the slants that her mussed maroon hair allowed. Her breathing was quick, and her heart was pounding, but Riley tried to still the sensation of fear creeping upon her. It would give away her hiding spot._

_Riley was six years old, and the person she was hiding from was her mother._

_The day had started out nice enough; Riley had just walked home from the bus stop after her kindergarten class, a picture comprised of macaroni shells and drying glue held under her arm proudly. She let herself into the house and she placed her threadbare coat carefully on a hanger in the closet. Her grin fading from her face, she looked carefully around the room, searching for her mother._

_An angry, distorted voice broke the deathly silence of the house, as Riley started walking cautiously towards her mother's bedroom at the end of the hall. Peering in through the crack of the partially closed door, she saw her, sitting on the edge of her bed hunched over, growling into the phone with a perpetual sneer on her face._

_Young Riley froze when she saw her mother's head snap up and glare at her small frame peaking through the door. The look in her mother's eyes was livid, and she stood up abruptly and slammed the door in Riley's face._

_Riley trembled and grasped the picture she had made in class for her. A few seconds later, and she had darted under the counter, hoping her mother wasn't as angry with her after she got off of the phone._

_She paused as she heard the sound of her mother's high heels clicking against the floor, approaching closer. "Riley," She called to her, knowing where she was at, her tone terrifyingly flat._

_Shaking, Riley slowly crawled out from her hiding spot, knowing already that cowering would be futile. She kept her chin tucked towards her chest, biting down on her lower lip._

_Her mother gripped her wrist tightly, making Riley wince slightly, "Do not ever interrupt me on the phone again, understand?"_

_Riley nodded minutely._

_"Look at me when I'm talking to you," She hissed._

_Riley turned her head up, blinking frantically at the tears welling up._

_"Hmph," The woman sneered in disgust, "You have _his _eyes."_

_Riley just nodded again, used to the statement, even though she didn't quite grasp what it meant._

_"You and him ruined my life," She seethed bitterly before flinging Riley away from her and storming off towards her bedroom._

_Riley watched her go with wet eyes, and slowly returned back to her place under the tabletop._

Isaac watched the girl begin to twitch slightly as Dorian poked and prodded throughout her memories, a tiny smirk appearing on his face, "Are you done?" He asked nonchalantly, betraying his eagerness to have the process done and over with.

Dorian shook his head, and placed his fingers on Riley's temples, "I'm just getting started," He spoke for the first time that night, his voice cold and near silent, but not belying the amusement he was having.

Isaac stood there with his arms crossed, glaring at the girl who had proven to be more troublesome than any _Lecti_ he had encountered so far.

Both of them were oblivious to the girl watching the process from the hallway, concern filling her sapphire-colored eyes.

_The sound of the doorbell echoed throughout the house, and a nine year old Riley halted her studying immediately, sending another glance at her watch that she had normally kept hidden under her shirt sleeve, as the sight of it made her mother even more foul-tempered than usual. It was about ten in the morning on Saturday, and Riley wondered if that was her mother finally coming home, as she had left yesterday without a note or indication to where she was going._

_Cautiously, she crept over to the door and unlocked the deadbolt, creaking it open she let loose an audible sigh of relief when she saw the figure on the other side._

_It was a little girl, brunette hair pulled into pigtails and her mouth cracking a wide gap-toothed grin. "Hey Riley!"_

_A hesitant smile crawled across her face, "Hello Imy." She said somberly._

_"Where were you yesterday?" Imy asked her innocently, regarding her absence yesterday at school._

_"I was sick," Riley lied quickly._

_Imy squinted her eyes at her, "You don't look sick."_

_"I'm better now."_

_"Oh, ok," Imy readily accepted her friend's answer, "Want to come out and play? My mom said it was alright!"_

_Riley chewed on her lip and her eyes darted to the street beyond the nine year old, "Um…I don't know if I can…"_

_"Why not?" Imy pouted, sticking out her lip._

_"My mother wouldn't like it." Riley responded._

_Realization dawned upon the girl's features, "Ahh," She said, thinking deeply, "Then I'll just come inside and play with you!" She declared._

_Gray eyes widened in horror, "No!" She yelled a little too abruptly._

_Imy appeared hurt at the sudden rejection, "You don't want to play?"_

_"It's just…my mother…she's not home-" Riley stammered out._

_"But you want to play?" Imy attempted to clarify._

_Riley nodded, "But I can't-"_

_Imy smiled wider than the first one, and made her way into the Zalank household, "Then stop being so stupid!"_

_Riley wrung her hands together, her eyes darting back out to the street, "Imy, this isn't a good idea! My mother could be home any minute and-"_

_"And she'll just have to get over it," Imy huffed as cross as a nine year old could get, "Because I want to try playing that board game I got you for your birthday!" She said adamantly._

_Riley looked around the house furtively again, praying her mother wasn't coming home, "Only one game, ok?" She pleaded._

_Imy nodded rapidly, "I go first!" She volunteered, rushing towards Riley's room._

_Riley evaluated her empty home once again before trudging after her._

_As the game progressed, Imy beating the preoccupied Riley mercilessly, Riley felt some of the tension and worry lift from her chest as she began to relax in her best, and only, friend's presence. Imy had always had that effect on her, ever since she had first met her last year in the second grade. A childish smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she popped the dice yet again._

_"Trouble!" She declared in victory as she captured Imy's red piece with her own green one._

_"Jerkface!" Imy retorted, sticking her tongue out childishly._

_Riley was about to retort, but the statement froze in her mind when she heard the sound of the doorknob turning from the entrance of the house. "Oh no." She whispered, quickly shoving the board game under her bed where she kept it hidden. "Imy you have to leave right now!" She demanded._

_"What? Why?" Imy asked, having not heard the door opening_.

_"My mother's here, she's going to be really-" Riley's words trailed off as she heard the knob to her own room turn behind her, and Imy's eyes widened when she saw how pale her best friend had become._

_Time seemed to still as Cassandra stood in her daughter's doorframe, glaring at the small brunette that was in her room, and her eyes narrowed dangerously when she caught sight of the small, silver moon amulet hanging from the girl's neck. "Get out of my house," She snarled at Imy, who sat there, complacent in the fear that Cassandra's mere presence inspired._

_Imy sent a worried glance at her friend, "Riley?" She asked in confirmation._

_Riley said nothing, only swallowed hard and inclined her head slightly, indicating that Imy should leave._

_"Out!" Cassandra reiterated._

_Imy stood up shakily, "I'll see you at school," She whispered, quickly lowering her head and exiting the room._

_Riley watched her friend leave and felt her heartbeat quicken rapidly in nervousness._

_"Why the hell was she here?" Cassandra growled._

_Riley fiddled with the frayed edges on the sleeves of her shirt, "She just…she just wanted to play." She mumbled._

_Riley kept her eyes averted, but could hear the scowl in Cassandra's voice, "You are to never speak with her again."_

_The girl gaped and looked up at her mother in defiance, "But-!"_

_"No buts." Cassandra cut her off sharply, "You can't play with the neighborhood children anymore, do you understand?"_

_"B-But why?" Riley questioned pitifully._

_"Because you're dangerous to them Riley," Her mother said with no sympathy, "If you play with them, you're going to hurt them."_

_"No I won't." She whispered._

_"Yes you will." She spat, "You will hurt them badly, listen to your mother, Riley, I know."_

_"Why will I hurt them?" Riley pressed._

_"Because you're a monster, a horrible, evil monster."_

_Silence fell between the two, as Riley squeezed her eyes shut to keep the freshly spewing tears at bay, not wanting to cry in front of her mother and make her even angrier._

_"Do you want to hurt your friend Riley?"_

_"No," A meek reply._

_"Then you will not speak to her again." Cassandra spoke._

_A pause._

_"Well?" Cassandra insisted piercingly._

_Riley inhaled a shaky breath, "…I won't talk to her again."_

_"Good." She said bluntly, turning on her heel and leaving her daughter crying on her bedroom floor._

"…Don't…want…to…hurt…anymore," Riley muttered in her state of semi-consciousness, her head lolling to the side as her eyes squeezed tightly together, as if relieving pressure from a huge migraine.

Isaac heaved a sigh of relief, "We done?" He inquired.

A puzzled look crossed Dorian's face, "It's…peculiar." He mumbled.

Isaac raised an eyebrow, "Peculiar?"

Dorian nodded, "She's resisting."

Isaac rolled his eyes, irked by Dorian's constant bluntness, "Care to elaborate?"

"Normally, the resurgence of a few unpleasant memories is enough to convert the person, especially in this case as the girl's got quite a few…" He trailed off.

"But?" Isaac continued for him.

"But, she's not wallowing in despair, I can feel it in the emotions she's projecting. She's still fighting to protect her hope." He said.

"Well, what do you propose we do?" Isaac questioned.

A wolfish smile appeared on his face, "I have an idea. The factors anchoring her to her hope and sanity are accredited to two people."

"And?" Isaac growled, feeling increasingly annoyed with Dorian's inability to fully explain anything.

"If we were to remove the bonds of loyalty and obligation she feels towards them, it would weaken her resolve, make her easier to break." Dorian clarified.

"How?"

His smile grew, "By manipulating her memories, twisting them around and placing false ones with the real ones that reflect her ties to them."

Isaac groaned and fell flat across the bed on his back, "You had better hurry it up," He warned, "The _Incinti_ wants her ready before the night's out."

Dorian merely grunted in response and placed his fingers back over her temples, intent on finishing what he had started.

_The bell rang shrilly, echoing throughout the classroom as a fifteen-year-old Riley lifted her head up sluggishly from the desk, obviously dozing off during her lesson. Absently rubbing the sleep away from the corners of her eyes, she vaguely remembered something about a car accident but it drifted away as she straightened in her seat. Gathering her things in one, even sweep she proceeded to head out of the room._

_But she was stopped by a hand clamping down on her shoulder._

_Puzzled, Riley turned around and saw the face of her best friend, Imy, who seemed to be glaring at her with barely disguised loathing. "What's wrong?" Riley asked her in confusion._

_"You know what's wrong," Imy hissed back at her, quickly withdrawing her hand, hatred radiating from her golden eyes._

_Riley's eyebrows drew together, "No, I don't?" She asked._

_She snorted, "Typical, how very typical." She said in disgust._

_"Imy, what's going on!" Riley demanded._

_"Cut the act Riley!" Her friend bellowed._

_"What act?" Riley countered, frustration building on her._

_"I've seen the way you pretend you care about people, that old trick isn't going to work on me," Imy stated._

_"I don't know what you're talking about."_

_"You think it's ok to keep on living like you are, stepping over everyone and using them for your own sick wants!" Imy backed away from her even more, "Well I'm tired of it, and I'm not going to stand for it anymore. You can trick everyone else, but you aren't fooling me!"_

_"I don't understand…" Riley trailed off._

_"You wouldn't, would you? Of course not, you're one of them, one of those slaves to the Atrox! You've been lying to everyone Riley."_

_"I'm not-"_

_But Imy cut her off, "You've just been playing with us, haven't you? Me, Tessa, Aria, and even Trysten! You're just trying to fool us with false loyalty in order to get us to reveal our weaknesses."_

_"That's ridiculous!" Riley outburst, but Imy ignored her._

_"Please, I've seen the way you act around your mother. You're her little slave, she rules over your entire life! You can't say no to her, it's no small wonder that Cassandra's been using you as a tool to bring the downfall of the Daughters."_

_"I'm not some puppet!" Riley cried, her face flushing._

_"Prove it!" Imy snarled, "Trysten told us you were a _Lecta_, if you were truly innocent, you would have told us." Her eyes narrowed, "I should have suspected that you had something to hide."_

_"Imy, please-" Riley stammered, "You_ _have to listen to me-"_

_"Save it," She said darkly, raising one of her hands, "We're all tired of hearing your lies Riley. I thought you were my friend."_

_"I am your friend!" Riley protested._

_"My friend wouldn't betray me like you did!" Imy yelled, shoving passed her out towards the door. Keeping her back to her she whispered, "Just stay the hell away from all of us. We're better off without you. You've brought us nothing but pain."_

_"Imy," Riley muttered pathetically as her once best friend walked out of her life._

"I'm almost there," Dorian said, sweat trickling down his brow, "That was one big blow to her psyche, she's fragile. I just need the final push."

"Then do it," Isaac snarled, "We're behind schedule."

Dorian nodded and fixed the final scenario.

_Riley looked around frantically as she tried to determine her surroundings. Slowly, it dawned upon her that she was still at her school, only now it was night and somehow she had managed to get to the bleachers of the school's outdoor track. She held a hand to her forehead, there was something that didn't make sense about the place._

_Her doubts were quickly dispelled when she heard footsteps approaching; lifting her head up, she saw Trysten take a seat next to her._

_He smiled widely, leaning his head back against the rest of the cold, aluminum bleacher, "Nice night, isn't it?" He asked casually._

_Riley stared at him in confusion, then down at her hands, "I suppose so." She swallowed and looked at the sky, "But there's no moon, or no stars." She whispered._

_Trysten shrugged, "Who needs the moon?"_

_"Everyone does," Riley answered, although she wasn't sure why._

_"No one needs it," Trysten replied, his smile fading slightly, "People just think that they do."_

_"What do you mean?" She questioned softly._

_"Everyone thinks that the moon is some guiding light or a source of genuine truth," He scoffed, "But that's not true, if it were, the moon wouldn't leave everyone all alone for three nights a month."_

_"It has to," Riley defended._

_Trysten stared at her, "Why?"_

_Riley opened her mouth to respond, but there was no answer that came to her, "I…I don't remember."_

_"Face it Riley," Trysten continued, his voice soft, "The moon abandons its followers when they need her the most."_

_"That's not true," She retorted childishly._

_Trysten brought a hand to her face, "But it is true, Riley. It abandoned me. It's going to abandon you."_

_"It abandoned you?" Riley asked shakily._

_He nodded, and when he turned to look at her, Riley saw the glints of yellow flashing through his eyes, "Yes, it did."_

_She paled and sighed sadly, "How?"_

_"Through you." He replied, now his voice taking a bitter edge._

_"Me?"_

_Trysten glared at her now, "You let me down, Riley. You let us all down."_

_"How?"_

_"You were weak when we all needed you to be strong, you were full of darkness when we needed you to be full of light." He chewed his lip, "You failed everyone."_

_Riley inhaled quickly, "I didn't…I didn't do that…"_

_"But you did Riley. You fell to your dark side."_

_She shook her head violently, "No! It's not possible, I couldn't have-"_

_"You fell Riley."_

_"No!"_

_"You fell, and you took me with you."_

_"I won't believe it!"_

_"You ruined everything."_

_"But I didn't-"_

_"You were weak."_

_"I didn't want to hurt anyone-"_

_"You hurt them all."_

_"No, I couldn't have-"_

_"You failed the Daughters."_

_"I'm…"_

_"You failed Jimena."_

_"I never wanted to-"_

_"You failed me."_

_"I'm so-"_

_"You failed, Riley. You failed."_

_"-Sorry."_

Riley's eyes snapped upon, and she jerked up straight on the bed. When her surroundings registered, and she saw Dorian and Isaac's smug expressions, she did the only thing she could think of.

She screamed.

"She's ready." Dorian stated, proud of his accomplishment.

"Excellent." Isaac answered smugly, gaining an eerie satisfaction when he saw the girl surrender to her inner torment.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Boy, this chapter was longer too! 24 pages! Yay! Um…there's only four more chapters left after this one

Input on pairings would be very nice indeed : D

_Next up_: Into the Underworld, no one will return unscathed.

!nym!


	20. 16 Into the Underworld

_Night's Children: Nox Noctis_

**AN: **I'm sorry this chapter took so long to come out, but it was very difficult to write. Nothing is worse than wanting to write something, yet having no inspiration to do it.

My side story focusing on Art, Lance (Zahi), and Trysten is posted! It's called_ Night's Children: Dum Spiro, Spero_ and I'd appreciate it greatly if you told me what you think of the first intro chap!

I noticed I describe clothing a little more than usual in this chapter, do you guys like that or hate it? Please let me know!

I drop the f-bomb in this chapter a few times. I'm sorry.

Also, the part about records and leases is pure and utter bullshit. I am not, nor have I ever been, a police officer so I'm not a one hundred percent reliable source when it comes to these things but I hope I was able to make it sound slightly convincing.

Okay, final thoughts before I actually let you, oh, I don't know READ the chapter, **I am looking for a beta-editor for this story! Message or review if you're interested!**

**Chapter Sixteen: Into the Underworld**

The car ride was deathly silent, awkwardly so as Tessa and Aria shared furtive glances between each other and their driver, who was radiating invisible waves of anger. The conversation that had happened a few moments ago was still fresh in everyone's minds- that much was apparent, and the words exchanged were still reverberating throughout their skulls.

"What now?" Aria whispered quietly, as the car sped through the night.

Her question was met with silence, as Lance stared out the window, blowing his choppy bangs out of his face in irritation and Tessa sat absently picking at the dirt that had accumulated under her nails. Trysten stared ahead at the road blankly, lost in his own thoughts.

"We've got to do something." She attempted again.

No answer.

Aria sighed in defeat, and shifted uncomfortably in her seat, "Well," She prompted, trying a different approach, "Do you know where this Isaac is?"

Again no reply.

"Shouldn't we try to figure that out?"

"Aria, please, just shut up." Tessa growled, rubbing her temples.

Aria sent a look of pure venom to the blonde, "Excuse me for trying to accomplish something!" She spat, crossing her arms in irritation.

"All you're managing to accomplish is getting on my **damn **nerves!" Tessa hollered.

"Like that's so hard you bit-"

"Both of you are behaving like children." Lance said icily, cutting in, "Can you two at least _pretend_ that you're the bearers of the fate of the free world for three seconds?"

Both of their heads lowered like scolded children.

"Good." He stated, turning to the window, "If we're going to attempt this half-assed, suicidal rescue mission-" At this he looked pointedly at Trysten, who ignored him, "We need to evaluate our resources and determine a plan. These aren't your run-of-the-mill mallrat Followers, these are professionals, the elite." He paused and turned to the two Daughters of the Moon, "What is it exactly that you do?"

"I heal." Aria said numbly.

"That's it?" Lance questioned.

She nodded.

Lance sighed and slumped a little in his seat, "And you?" He directed at Tessa.

"I can cast illusions, trick people's perceptions."

The once Immortal straightened a little in his seat, interest piqued, "That might actually be useful. To what extent can you control them?"

Tessa shifted awkwardly, a tinge of pink in her cheeks indicating her embarrassment, "I can make a person appear six feet to the left of where they're actually standing."

The pseudo hope that had appeared on Lance's face fell instantly, "You're serious?"

Tessa nodded slowly, blonde locks falling in front of her face.

"We're fucked. We're _so_ fucked!" Lance hissed slamming his head into the window sideways. The girls cringed a bit at the sudden outburst, both feeling somewhat ashamed for their lack of usefulness.

"Calm down." Trysten's voice broke through for the first time since that rather dramatic confrontation with Tymmie and Cassandra.

Lance snorted, rolling his eyes and facing out the window, "Calm down? CALM DOWN! It's over Trysten! All we've worked for, tonight it's OVER."

"Only if we let it." Was his irritatingly tranquil response.

"Only if we let it," Lance mocked bitterly, "We don't even know where this Isaac lives!" He exclaimed.

As if on cue, the cell phone began to ring in Aria's purse. The three other occupants of the car sent her looks of irritation, but she ignored them, flipping her phone open, "Hello?" Her face transformed into one of absolute ecstasy, "It's Jimena!" She declared excitedly, and the three perked up.

Aria cleared her throat, "Jimena, we need your help…" Her voice trailed off, "Are you familiar with a Regulator that goes by the name Isaac?"

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Riley stared at the ground numbly, alone and silent in the room she had been held prisoner in at Isaac's apartment. Inside of her, she felt the distinct urge to cry and weep, yet had not the willpower to go through with it. There was something heavy in the pit of her stomach, a weight slowly crushing and smothering her.

But it wasn't the fact that she couldn't cry or the fact that she felt this horrible sensation gnawing at her insides that scared her.

It was that she didn't care enough to put a stop to it.

Riley inhaled shakily, her hands trembling even though she couldn't feel it, she couldn't really feel anything at the moment. The words of Trysten and Imy kept re-circulating throughout her head like a broken record, the emotions of betrayal overcoming all other rational. They hated her now. Most likely, so did Jimena and the others.

She was alone.

Alone, except for the Atrox and its Followers.

Crossing over didn't seem so bad a prospect now, and briefly she wondered why she had been so against it to begin with. It was a chance for her to seek the solace of those who had already experienced the aching emptiness that she was currently experiencing, and it was in all actuality where she already belonged.

She simply had nothing left to fight for anymore- her best friend hated her and Trysten had already crossed over. The Daughters were over before they could even get started, inner bickering and the refusal to cooperate killing this generation before they could ever get off the ground. Riley snorted inwardly, that would be the day when Aria and Tessa would work together.

Everything was gone from her, except for her unlikely savoir, the Atrox. It would be her redemption, if she were capable of any.

Her thoughts returned to the conversation she had held with Tymmie only an hour or so ago. She shook her head slowly; it seemed so much longer than an hour ago. He had said something, _damnat quod non intellegunt_, they condemn what they do not understand.

She sighed bitterly, well, she understood now.

A sour taste acquired in her mouth, "I understand perfectly." She muttered to herself quietly.

There was a hesitant, but nevertheless clear, knock on the door that disrupted her from her reverie. Riley's tired eyes shot up to look at the door as it gradually creaked open, revealing a choppy head of platinum hair.

"Hey there," December said gently, stepping slowly into the room and closing the door softly behind her.

"Hi." Riley said flatly, not making eye contact.

"How are you feeling?" The older girl asked with concern uncharacteristic of a Follower.

"Like shit." Riley replied, still staring at the ground.

December nodded with understanding, "Dorian had you for a long time."

"Yeah."

The white-haired girl sighed, scratching the back of her neck, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

December bit her lip, slightly worried at the detachment in all of her words and wondering what exactly Dorian had done in his twisted mind games. She recalled her own perversion, and how she had started to sob and weep uncontrollably for hours. Despair was an acceptable reaction, fury another. Yet the calm apathy that Riley was demonstrating was cause for concern and December knew that something had been lost to her forever that night.

An awkward silence ensued as each of them mulled over the situation. December inwardly battled her conscience, or what was left of it, and even briefly contemplated releasing her. Yet she knew she could not do that. Riley was a _Lecta_, an important one, and if she were to offer her freedom she would have to face the repercussions, even maybe become outcasted. Not only that, but December could see simply by the look on her face, that Riley would not run. The fifteen year old had resigned herself to her fate, and she wasn't going to back down.

December gave a breathy sigh and plastered on a fake smile, "So are you excited?" She asked innocently.

"No."

December rolled her eyes at Riley, "Are you just going to use monosyllabic words throughout the night?"

Riley's only response to December's banter was to tilt her head up sluggishly and stare at her blankly. December wanted to recoil a bit at the empty look in the girl's pale eyes but she restrained herself, it was not like she hadn't seen that emptiness before, she confronted it in the mirror everyday.

"Why are you here, December?" Riley asked flatly.

"What do you mean?" December responded flippantly.

"Are you checking up on me?" Riley clarified.

Her fake smile slipped for a moment, "In a sense, yes."

"Why?"

December's voice was devoid of its usual swaggering arrogance when she answered, "It's almost time."

Riley paled and it felt as if something bitter had made its way into her mouth, knowing December was referring to her Cold Fire ceremony, "When?"

"In about an hour. Isaac went ahead and called our circle's leader, and she set it up with the _Incinti_." She answered.

Riley's eyebrow twitched in curiosity, "Circle?" She wondered out loud.

"Most Followers, at least on _our_ side, live and cooperate in smaller circles, or packs if you will," December explained, "For instance, myself, Isaac, and Dorian are all underlings to an older and more powerful Immortal." She gestured with her arms to the room, "This is our leader's apartment. She gives us food, clothing, shelter, and training- in return we do her bidding until we're strong enough to go out on our own." She paused contemplating, "Actually, Isaac has been talking about forming his own circle. Can't say I'd be disappointed to see him leave."

"Who's your leader?" Riley queried, knowing that she most likely wouldn't know the Follower anyways.

"Her name's Yvonne." She said simply, "And she's one tough bitch, so don't get on her bad side."

"Hm." Riley said dismissively, as the name did not hold any familiarity to her.

There was another pause before December once again plastered the false smile across her face, "Let's get you ready then, shall we?"

The maroon-haired girl looked up in lethargic curiosity, "Ready?"

"For the ceremony, you can't go dressed like _that_." December stated matter-of-factly in regards to the girl's torn jeans and ragged tank over her frayed long underwear shirt with the muddy sneakers. "You have to dress nice for this sort of thing."

Riley shifted uncomfortably, for a moment drawing a parallel between the Follower and her former best friend Imy, as their attitudes towards her apparel were remarkably similar. "I don't have any other clothes." She stated dumbly staring at her hands.

December snorted, "That's no problem, you'll just wear something of mine. We're roughly the same size."

Riley was sure her eyebrows had shot up to her forehead, as she looked at what the older girl was wearing. The clothes were tight, the shirt see-through. She doubted that even with her current lack of interest in anything, she would feel comfortable.

December gave her trademark barking laugh, "Don't look so mortified, I've got something a little more…" She paused, attempting to find the right wording, "Tame for you." She stated, walking over to the room's closet and rummaging through the articles within. It then dawned upon Riley that the room she had been imprisoned within belonged to her, and she felt even more awkward, feeling as if she had invaded her space.

But she shrugged the sensation off, albeit a bit reluctantly. What did it matter if she disrupted the Follower girl's privacy? It's not like it bothered either of the girls, Riley very much doubted anything would truly unnerve her again- not after the ritual tonight.

"Here we go!" December exclaimed triumphantly as she pulled out a hanger from the closet, "What do you think?"

Riley stared at the garment in her hands blankly, shrugging with indifference. What did it matter what she wore? The end result would be the same, "It's fine." She said off-handedly.

The platinum blonde rolled her eyes in exasperation and mumbled under her breath. "Could get a little excited." She placed the hanger gingerly on the surface of the foot of the bed, next to Riley who stared at it as if it were a science specimen. December walked back to the closet and chose some articles of clothing after much deliberation and strung them over her arm, "Go ahead and get ready, I'll use the bathroom to change." She ordered, walking slowly out of the room and closing the door with a gentle 'click' behind her.

Riley ran a hand over the silky material of the dress and sighed to herself deeply. It was best to not put up much of a fuss; the sooner she changed the sooner the inevitable events would be set in motion. If she were honest with herself, she knew she wanted her Frigidus Ignis ceremony to be over and done with as quick as humanely possible. Then she could put her destiny, her burden, and those she had betrayed with her weakness behind her.

"Let's get this over with," She muttered to herself resignedly, before shrugging off her dirty clothes and preparing to change into the simple, off-the-shoulder white dress December had loaned her.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

December trudged from her room, the flimsy garments hanging haphazardly over her arm as the thick soles of her boots echoed on the hardwood floors. She made her way slowly towards the apartment's sole bathroom, trying desperately to forget the haunting look in the doomed girl's eyes.

Her hand rested on the doorknob, but she paused when she heard voices coming from the living room. She let out a hiss, most likely Isaac and Dorian, gloating over the shattering of Riley's mind. Well, Isaac gloating, Dorian sitting there with that sadistic and feral grin plastered on his face. Her fist clenched and her teeth ground, they had acted that way after her own breaking anyways.

"December."

She froze at hearing Isaac call her own name from the room, and she let out a shaky, "Yeah?"

"We have company." Was all he stated.

Sluggishly, December hung up her clothes on the doorknob and carefully approached the living room, her breath catching when she saw who was seated comfortably on the couch beside Dorian and Isaac.

"Long time no see," Came the deceptively friendly voice of the visitor. Long, blonde hair curled tightly in ringlets that fell perfectly against her tanned skin and hovered over her crystalline blue eyes. The girl was wearing a clingy lavender sundress and tie up sandals with spiked heels. Obviously expensive silver jewelry hung from her delicate wrists and neck.

December gave a dry swallow. Beautiful, charming, and ruthless. All qualities that belonged solely to her mentor, "Hello Yvonne." She said nervously, inclining her head in a gesture of respect.

"According to these two morons, you were able to catch and prepare the _Lecta_." Yvonne disregarded the greeting, and gestured to a no longer smug Isaac and a stoic Dorian, "Is that true?"

She hesitated before she nodded, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Yvonne's experienced eyes, "I gave her something nice to change into." Was all she muttered.

An expression of distaste flew across the older Follower's features, as if finding the words 'nice' and 'December' in accordance was a ridiculous notion, "How long? The _Incinti_ is growing impatient."

"Not too much longer," Isaac answered.

Yvonne set her icy sights on the tracker, "I don't remember asking you." She spat between pearly white teeth.

Isaac cringed like a dog beaten by its owner, but December noticed the flicker of rage that went through his eyes for a brief moment.

Yvonne tapped her foot against the floor, "Well?"

"Any moment now," The younger of the two females answered, staring at the muddy toes of her combat boots.

"Hmph," Was all she said dismissively, "Then I'll let you three oafs in on the plan." The three underlings gained calculating looks, awaiting instruction, "I've been sent as a chaperone for you. As it's more than likely the Infidi already know of the plan, the Incinti has advised that we don't travel to the ceremony by shadow, instead taking a longer route with you all as guards to prevent escape and to evade any spare _Infidi_ Followers sent by Lambert or Tymmie."

"Easy," Isaac snorted.

"Perhaps," Yvonne drawled, "But if any of you," Her eyes narrowed specifically at Isaac, "Any of you screw this up, it's my neck." A flash of something dangerous crossed her features, "I have not been kissing the bloated asses of the _Incinti_ for three punk Initiates to ruin my reputation by failing a simple delivery. Any slip up and I'll personally make sure all three of you are Outcasted."

The trio looked at each other, studying for weaknesses.

"Are we perfectly clear?" Yvonne said crisply, picking at her perfectly manicured fingernails.

Dorian nodded stiffly while Isaac let out an irritated grunt of approval. December sighed, fidgeting with the buckle of her collar before giving a half-hearted, "Of course."

Yvonne gave a curt nod, blond ringlets bobbing, "Good, then get presentable. We leave in ten minutes."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Gordon watched Jimena with a sense of detatched observation as she attempted to dial a different set of numbers. So far, the woman had attempted to call the younger Zalank, and then the Ormond girl but neither answered. This was her third try, and she was calling the third Daughter, named Aria.

He reclined back, his fingers fidgeting from their place behind his head. If there was one thing Gordon hated in the world, it was waiting, and he seemed to be doing plenty of it today. It had been Jimena's idea to contact the Daughters after discovering that Cassandra had deleted all of her messages, but Gordon could hardly see how that would help. Four teenaged brats against an ancient evil older than the devil himself? Hmph, hardly a match. But Jimena had been insistent, giving him that irritatingly pompous grin of hers and instructing him not to underestimate them.

So, here he was. On his ninth cup of quite frankly horrible coffee watching a middle-aged, ex-gangster desperately try to get a hold of some mallrats. Typical.

"Aria!" Jimena suddenly cried out, causing Gordon to loose his balance on the chair and almost crash to the floor, the Magna Mater turned to him excitedly, almost like a teenager herself, "It's Aria!"

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, "Wonderful." Was all he said gruffly.

The excitement on her face faded instantly as her mouth pressed into a grim line, once again regaining the appearance of the intimidating woman he had met earlier, "Yes…" Her voice was low, "I know of him. Why do you ask?"

Gordon raised an eyebrow, prompting an explanation, but was met with silence. Sighing, he scooted his chair closer to Jimena and the phone, craning his neck to eavesdrop on the conversation.

She suddenly let out a string of rapid, angry Spanish words that Gordon didn't know, but assumed were swears from her tone, "What do you mean he's the one who has Riley!" She pinched the bridge of her nose, something he had noticed had become a nervous habit, "This is bad, very bad Aria."

Gordon cleared his throat, once again hoping for her attention, but she ignored him, deadly focused on her telephone conversation.

"He runs with an almost Incinti Follower named Yvonne, she's-" Jimena's voice trailed off and Gordon drew the conclusion that she had been interrupted on the other line, "No! Aria _listen_ _to_ _me_ this is dangerous! I have half a mind to stop you myself, you don't want to get involved in this type of-" She stopped short and the worried look that had etched its way into her face receded slightly. She let out a long breath, "You're right, I know Riley's with them and it's the only way but still…I worry."

There was a pause as the other, muffled voice that must belong to the girl named Aria began talking. Jimena's head started to give a grave shake, "No, I don't know where he would live," Suddenly, her gaze snapped for the first time to Gordon throughout the conversation, "But I can find out." She said somberly. A quick switch from a heavy to light tone of voice was made as she turned away from the bemused cop, "Aria, I'll call you back with an address." Some short goodbyes were uttered before Jimena placed the phone on the receiver.

"What was that all about?" Gordon muttered suspiciously.

Jimena ran a nimble hand through her black tresses, "Mr. Jacobson, I'm going to need a rather substantial favor from you."

His eyes narrowed, "And that would be?"

"I need to find a list of tenants in the Los Angeles area, and I need them fast." She said coldly.

Gordon shook his head violently, "I can't do that. Records isn't my department, I have no clearance."

Her onyx eyes glinted sharply, "I don't really give a damn, Mr. Jacobson, one of my Daughters is in danger and I don't have a whole lot of time." She clenched a fist tightly, "You said you wanted to help, if you're going to play with the big boys you're going to have to make sacrifices."

He snorted, "And why should I? I don't even know what the hell's going on!"

She gave an irritated huff, "Riley is being held captive by a Regulator named Isaac, a rather ruthless one that belongs to a sect of Followers under the command of a bloodthirsty Immortal bitch and I need their goddamn address!"

Gordon allowed a slow blink, for once taken aback by crassness, "And how do you know that this Isaac doesn't own a house? Or is even using his real name on a lease?"

Jimena gave a growl and lifted a finger, "One, it wouldn't be his name on the lease, it would be his mentor's," She lifted another, "Two, his leader, Yvonne isn't one for subtlety or gimmicks nor would she stand for the bullshit of a pseudonym," She lifted yet another finger, "And three, this is L.A., almost nobody owns a house."

Gordon grunted and an extremely annoyed scowl lit his features, "You realize how much shit I'd get if I was caught rifling through files for no apparent reason?"

"You realize what's going to occur if Riley gets crossed over tonight?" Jimena demanded, hardly one to back down.

That thought snapped his head back. Riley, the scared little Zalank girl whose own mother had tried to kill her earlier that day. Riley; the emotionally weak one, the depressed one, the one who made herself willingly self-isolated. Riley. Emil.

_Emil_.

Gordon ran a calloused hand through his graying hair, licking his cracked lips, "You promise you'll be fast?"

Jimena gave a smirk of victory, "I do fast. You're talking to the former premier car-jacker in all of Los Angeles."

He gave a sigh of despondency but nevertheless grabbed his keys off of the kitchen table, "Then let's get this done and over with," As an afterthought he grumbled under his breath, "I'm going to loose my badge if this stupid shit continues."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Dorian straightened his silk black tie smartly for yet another time as his cold, calculating eyes surveyed his appearance in the mirror, determining if his apparel would meet Yvonne's extremely high expectations. To his left, Isaac gave a snort of derision as he sent an unwashed hand through his grimy locks in an attempt to make himself look presentable.

"You're taking too long," Dorian said lowly, noticing that his counterpart had yet to button his surprisingly clean white shirt, and that his black suspenders hung from his waist, dangling.

Isaac shrugged and mussed with his head for the final time, "December'll take longer."

"Bastard." Came a voice from the hall, and the two slowly let their gazes drift from the mirror to the girl in question. December stood in front of the doorway, placing a small silver loop through her ear. She had on a skin-tight spaghetti strapped black dress with tall, skinny black stiletto boots that went up to her thighs. Her jaggedly cropped hair was styled into clips that fastened on the side of her face, giving her a pixie look as the rest jutted up in back.

"The _Lecta_?" Dorian asked dispassionately, refastening his ponytail.

"I just finished getting her ready," December popped a hip and looked at Isaac in barely disguised contempt, "Funny, I finished getting _two_ people dressed up, and you couldn't even find the time to take a shower."

"Piss off," He grunted, buttoning up his shirt but letting the suspenders hang as he charged out of the bathroom and towards the living room, shoving passed December.

"He's such a dick sometimes, don't you think?" December snarled, looking at Dorian for assistance in her statement.

He didn't give an answer, and opted instead to follow Isaac's path. December sighed, she didn't really expect one from the most cold-hearted of the trio. She turned smartly on her heel and knocked on the door to the room across from the bathroom, her own.

"Riley, hurry it up," She insisted banging on the wood with her knuckles.

The door opened hesitantly, and December saw a pale gray eye through the crack, "Is it time?" She asked monotonously.

The older girl nodded moving aside so Riley could exit, watching cautiously when after a few moments she didn't walk out. "You coming?"

A heavy sigh was heard opposite the door and Riley slowly emerged.

December allowed a self-appreciating smile to grace her features, "You look great, am I a good stylist or what?"

Riley said nothing but shifted her weight awkwardly between her two feet. The white dress that reached to her knees was off the shoulder and tied up corset-like in the back with pale gray ribbon. There was a ribbon choker around her neck the same color, and her maroon hair was fussed into a simple French braid with longer strands falling down the sides of her face. "I'm not comfortable." Was all she said quietly.

A crooked smirk made its way to the blonde's face, "_But_ you look _good_."

"I don't care."

December exhaled in a mock huff, "Killjoy."

"Move it along!" Came a female shrill that echoed throughout the apartment.

Riley raised an eyebrow and looked at December in curiosity, "That wasn't Isaac."

She failed to cover the grin that formed on her features when she concocted the mental image, "That's Yvonne."

The girl's large gray eyes widened in recognition, "Your boss?"

The Follower nodded, "She's our chaperone for this little excursion." December raked a hand through her hair and held out a hand to the fifteen year old, "It's time to go."

Riley hesitated, and she began to inhale deeply, this was it. The pieces were set, and everything was in motion, all she had to do was take the hand offered to her and it would be finalized, all of the hurt and pain and fear would be gone if she just did the simple action. She lifted her hand-

"What the hell is taking you two so long?" Isaac bellowed, suddenly appearing in the hall. When his eyes set on Riley his look of irritation transformed into one of a leer, "Nice dress." He commented smugly.

Riley let her arm drop and she shifted away from him, not liking the way his eyes drifted up and down.

"She's not a piece of meat," December remarked crisply, standing in front of her and effectively blocking his view.

Isaac opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but was interrupted when a loud crash was heard from the apartment's entrance, "The hell-?" He opted for instead.

Riley's eyes drifted towards the source of the disruption and looked at December, "What's going on?" She questioned softly.

December gave a shrug of confusion, her eyebrows drawing together, "I have no idea." She muttered honestly.

The three watched as a beautiful young woman Riley didn't recognize with blonde hair came running up to them, "We're leaving," She said crisply, her eyes lingering on Riley as she then seemed to give a nod of approval.

"What's going on?" Isaac demanded; his arms crossed over his chest.

The crashing noises became louder, and for a moment Riley thought she heard a familiar voice spewing out some Latin.

"Yvonne?" December questioned softly.

"Complications," Yvonne said matter-of-factly, "We're going to be traveling by shadow out the window, Dorian's staying behind to clean up the mess."

The pair of Followers caught on immediately as each grabbed one of Riley's arms and began to jog towards the window. Riley craned her neck, trying to get a view of the entrance. Sure enough, Riley caught sight of curly brown hair, "Aria!" She exclaimed in utmost confusion, why were the Daughters here? She had betrayed them!

…Hadn't she?

The head looked up in recognition of the name, revealing the startled features of the Daughter in question, "RILEY!" She cried, sprinting towards her.

The three Followers that held her were beginning to disappear into shadow, and Riley peered down to see her feet dissolving as well.

"Way to go," Grumbled Isaac under his breath, his grip tightening on her bicep, "Now they know you're with us."

"Shut up." Yvonne snapped, to which he begrudgedly obliged.

A mixture of raw terror and confusion filled the _Lecta_ as the four faded into the night sky, wondering exactly what was going on and whether or not her memories were absolutely genuine.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

(flashback, kinda)

Aria held the worn paper in her hands, noticing how it trembled. About ten minutes ago, Jimena had called her, miraculously with an address. When she had called, Aria could have sworn she heard some male cursing rather loudly in the background, but when she had asked for his identity all Jimena had replied was 'He's a new friend' and had abruptly ended the connection after giving her a final 'Be careful'.

Her eyes drifted to the number written hastily on the sheet and the number on the door. This floor of the building was elegant, posh, and gloriously clean, yet the brass numbers were somewhat rusty and there was a suspiciously red stain on the corner of the door. Aria looked hesitantly behind her at Trysten, Lance, and Tessa, "This is it." She muttered.

Lance stood by silently, his hands tucked into the pockets of his black jeans, and Tessa began to fiddle with her hands in either anticipation or nervousness. It was Trysten who approached the door, and with one, quick solid kick he rattled the door off of its hinges.

"You know," Lance said darkly, "It could have been unlocked."

He merely grunted, which caused Lance to smile despite himself, and entered the room. Lance was immediately behind him, while Tessa shot a look to Aria before taking after the dark haired mind reader. After a few moments of vacillation, Aria reluctantly followed.

The apartment was surprisingly huge on the inside and Tessa let out a low whistle of appreciation at the pristine décor.

The first thing to register in Aria's eyes were the two occupants of the room. One of which appeared to be their age, a gorgeous blonde woman dressed in finery. To the side of her was a silent, imposing figure clad in an all black tux, black shirt, and black tie. He was handsome, but gave off an aura of raw horror.

Beside her, she sensed that Lance had stopped breathing, "Yvonne." He stated between clenched teeth.

The blonde looked at him, her thin arms crossed over her chest, "Well, well, long time no see Zahi."

Aria continued to stare at the man in black, who she was quite sure had not even blinked during the whole exchange.

"Where is she?" Trysten said, his voice cold and detatched, but his party knew better.

Yvonne's elegant eyebrows shot to her forehead, "And look at this! There's no doubt you're Stanton's little spawn."

Trysten gave away nothing but the slight downward twitch of the corner of his mouth. "Where?" He reiterated.

Yvonne gave a false, tinkling laugh, "I don't know what you're talking about," She turned to the stoic, unidentified man, "Dorian, _dear_, take care of this will you?" She pulled on his tie and whispered into his ear, her voice dripping venomous honey, "The _Lectus_ cannot get away." She shot an acidic glance at Lance and said louder, "As much as I would positively _love_ to reminisce, I've matters to attend." She turned quickly on her heel and stalked off.

Lance sneered and sprinted after her, but he collided straight into the stoic man's chest, "Sorry." He said, his voice low and not even remotely apologetic.

Lance reared back his hand into a fist in an attempt to give him an uppercut to the jaw, but Tessa beat him to it, "_O Mater Luna, regina nocis, adviuo me nunc_!" She yelled like a war cry instead of an ancient prayer, a golden light hissing and crackling around her. She launched an illusion at the Follower simultaneously with Lance's fist and the man identified as Dorian took a few steps back, colliding with a bookshelf behind him. He brushed the attack off quickly, swaggering slightly as he got into a fighting pose.

Aria's eyes darted frantically, watching Tessa's fists clench in concentration as she fought to maintain her illusion and Lance loosely shaking his hand. Trysten stood there somberly, his arms crossed, but Aria could sense rather than see the dark aura beginning to surround him as he called upon the Atrox's power.

Aria began to flutter her eyes closed, trying to search for a way to be of use, when a barely audible cry caught her ears.

"Aria?"

Her head jerked up, and sure enough she saw the girl they had been chasing all night, standing bewildered between two other Followers she didn't recognize and Yvonne, "RILEY!" She screamed, springing to action with urgency, determined to get to her before she met interference.

Aria's cry did not go unnoticed by either the rescue squad or the captors as she saw them dart towards the open window, becoming blurry.

"RILEY!" Trysten cried launching himself out of his trance and towards the fleeing four, Lance quickly going after him.

"Trysten, it's no use! They've gone into shadows!" He argued, chasing after him.

Aria's head connected into a well-muscled arm and she collapsed on the hardwood floor, effectively breaking her sprint. "Ouch." She hissed, bringing her hand to the back of her head and dispelling the pain with minute concentration.

Her eyes connected with the dark and foreboding ones of Dorian and she tensed as he stared down at her like a severely pissed off bear. Tessa skidded to a stop next to her, quickly grabbing her arm and hauling her into a standing position.

Lance and Trysten both paused in their chase to stare back at their two allies, obviously hesitating when they saw the possible danger they were in.

It was Tessa who realized the predicament first, "Lance, you two can transform into shadow?" She barked.

Lance nodded slowly.

"Then what the hell are you gawking at! Go get Riley, Aria and I can handle this punk!" She snarled, drawing up her powers once again. She looked at her partner Goddess for confirmation and Aria gave a slight nod, also calling upon her gifts.

"He's strong," Lance said, but he noticed how Trysten was already struggling through a transformation, "_Merde_." He swore under the breath and began transforming as well, "Be careful."

The Follower's eyes darted back and forth between the escaping boys and the Daughters before him. He sighed angrily through clenched teeth, "Two Daughters will compensate for one _Lectus_." He reasoned aloud, pressing his fingers to his temples and concentrating.

Both girls watched the two disappear into the night, and Aria gave a thick swallow staring at her partner who seemed just as nerve-wracked as she did. The two were truly on their own.

"Okay," Tessa exhaled, flipping a curtain of blonde hair over her shoulder, "Let's party."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Four pairs of feet echoed gracefully as they landed on asphalt. Yvonne held up her hand, and Riley could sense her casting her mind out into the night, "Damn!" She swore, raking her long nails through her hair, "We're being followed."

Isaac snorted and his fingers tightened once again around Riley's arm, causing a slight grimace to flash across her face. December immediately let her arm drop from Riley, knowing she wasn't about to run off.

"Who were those guys back at the apartment?" December questioned her leader, trying to make the inquiry sound polite and not demanding.

"A couple of rodents," Yvonne seethed, not giving a direct answer as she was still concentrated on locating those who were following the party, "There's two of them behind us, strong ones." It appeared that she was processing mental calculations as her eyes darted back and forth between Riley, Isaac, and December.

Silence reigned and Riley tried to ignore the warm breath that Isaac was letting loose on her neck and the occasional sympathetic glances December gave that she thought she didn't notice. Her mind drifted back to Aria at the apartment, once again wondering why they were coming after her. Perhaps they were still angry at her betrayal? It was plausible that they were thirsty for revenge.

"You two!" Yvonne snapped, breaking Riley's train of thought, "Will destroy those following us and I will take the _Lecta_ to her ceremony," She gave a phony smile that was all teeth to the girl, "We can't have you being late, now can we?"

Riley stared at her, noticing the feelings of panic and anxiety that were beginning to fill up the oldest blonde, "Why are you afraid of them?" She questioned softly.

Yvonne gave a fake laugh, "It's not them I'm afraid of honey, it's the _Incinti_." She turned her gaze to her loyal sentinels, "After you kill them, meet up with Dorian and immediately proceed to the ceremony." Her vibrant blue eyes narrowed, "No slip ups."

Isaac immediately relinquished his death grip and rolled his shoulders, preparing for the upcoming battle, looking over his shoulder to give Riley one last leer. December gave a weak smile to her, before she proceeded to get ready as well.

Yvonne grabbed her arm, not as tightly as Isaac but firm enough to imply that she was in a hurry, "Let's get you going, _Lecta_, we've got a Cold Fire to attend."

Riley tried to find the words to voice her confusion, about the situation and those following her, but was whisked off into the night before she was able to say anything.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Aria gave a grunt of pain as Dorian's fist connected with her abdomen, sending her backwards. "Well, shit." She muttered, heaving as she placed her hand on her stomach, focusing her powers to relieve the pain instantly. She wasn't sure who had thrown the first blow, but she knew that odds certainly weren't in the two rookie goddesses' favor. Dorian was in fact much stronger than he looked, both physically and mentally. And two fifteen-year-old girls pitted against what could be a nineteen-year-old bodybuilder was certainly not a fair match in any circumstance.

Tessa wiped some blood off the corner of her mouth where Dorian had socked her jaw and waved slightly on her feet before she brought up her fists defensively, "Aria?" She asked, her tone falsely saccharine.

"Uh?" She responded intelligently.

"Any ideas?" She queried as she narrowly dodged another blow for her head.

"Um…"Aria stated absently as she searched the room. Her eyes landed on…a lamp. Darting passed Dorian who was currently focused on beating the living daylights out of the blonde, she wrapped her hands around it and positioned it over Dorian's head a millisecond before slamming it down on the back of his skull with all of her might. A dull 'thunk' noise was heard as Dorian collapsed to his knees, a dazed expression on his features, and then face planted into the floor.

"Good thinking," Tessa panted, her hands resting on her knees as she tried to catch her breath, "Mind healing me a bit?" She gestured to the nasty bruise forming by her chin as well as a black eye.

Aria nodded and drew blue light at her hands, hovering them over Tessa's injuries. Slowly, the skin began to heal and the process was almost complete when Tessa suddenly dropped to the floor.

"Tessa!" Aria cried, leaning over her, and she noticed a pained expression wrenched on the blonde's face.

"Heh," the low chuckle was heard and Aria slowly turned around, eyes widening in horror as she saw Dorian slowly pick himself up, rubbing his head, "That hurt." He slurred, standing up and glaring at a witless Aria.

"What? How?" She stammered, crouching over Tessa protectively.

His features remained flat and emotionless, "I'm an Immortal. Regeneration comes with the package."

Aria's attention was diverted as she heard Tessa give a low whimper, "What did you do to her?" She whispered astonished.

"I have a hold of her memories, she's under my control." Was all he said, his words clipped and short, he gestured to the couch, "Sit, and don't move or I'll kill her."

Numbly, Aria stood up and plopped herself on the couch, an expression of fear etched on her face, "Shit, Tessa, wake up!" She cried softly.

_Tessa looked around to discover that she was no longer in the pristine apartment._

_Somehow, she had managed to end up in a hospital, one she knew horribly well. The linoleum was polished underneath her pointed boots, and her eyes widened as she saw all the stretchers and gurneys moving about hastily. A look over towards the receptionist indicated that she was currently standing in the entryway to an emergency room._

_She shook her head hazily as the events began to unfold around her; the last time she had been to this hospital was when-_

_She was cut off as the automatic doors to the place opened abruptly, and frenzied EMTs wheeled in a gurney with a figure strapped to it. Tessa's eyes caught a flash of blonde hair so much like her own but she ignored it, her attention focusing instead on the occupants that entered quickly after the crowd._

_One was a man, a boy really, with brown hair that reached to the tops of his ears and ocean-colored eyes. He stood there, his eyes bloodshot and wide as he kept an arm wrapped around a smaller person protectively._

_Tessa's own eyes widened in horror as she recognized the boy. Ezra, her older brother, which could only mean that the little person was-_

_She felt her heart stop when suddenly she was met with an extremely familiar pair of tear-filled blue orbs. The little blonde girl paid no attention to the person who looked exactly like herself if she were about six years older. She tugged on Ezra's jacket sleeve, "Where are they taking her?" The little girl asked painfully._

_Ezra simply shook his head slowly, "They're going to try and make her better."_

_"Why? What's wrong with her?" The little girl's voice rose in pitch, trying to hold back frantic sobs that Tessa knew were coming anyways._

_"She's-"_

_"I want mommy!" She demanded fearfully. "Where's she?"_

_"Tess, mommy's really sick right now-" Ezra attempted to explain, managing to hide the grief in his own voice._

_Tears had begun to flow down the nine year old's face, "I don't care!" She cried, breaking away from Ezra and sprinting madly after the EMT team and the gurney._

_"Mom! Mommy!" She screamed, grabbing the attention of many of the occupants in the waiting room._

_Ezra took after her immediately, "Tessa! Stop!" He yelled, disregarding the appalled stares._

_The fifteen-year-old Tessa stood where she was, trembling. She_ knew _this night. One of the worst in her life. Her fingers dug into her palms and her breathing escalated, before she slowly followed the path that her younger self and brother had taken. She gave a hard swallow, knowing what was about to happen yet being somehow compelled to see it through to the end._

_She stopped when she saw her younger self, clutching desperately onto her older brother's jacket as if it were a lifeline, screaming and crying and blubbering. Ezra had his own tears falling down his face and he clung just as desperately onto his younger sister._

_Tessa overheard the doctors' voices talking, their somber tone echoing throughout the hallway._

_"Patient Morgan Page, dead on arrival-"_

_Older Tessa gripped herself in a fierce hug._

_"-Time of death approximately 1:23 am-"_

_She dropped to her knees._

_"-Cause of death-"_

_The tears began to fall down her face._

_"-A self-induced overdose of heroin and painkillers."_

_She screamed._

Aria felt herself freeze at the cruel, and feral look that had made its way into Dorian's eyes as Tessa let loose a blood-curling cry. A small "hmph" of satisfaction came from the man as he watched the tears pool onto the floor.

Aria stood there, shaking and pale, "Leave her alone." She whispered.

Dorian ignored her and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Tessa began to squirm on the floor in pain and grief.

Aria felt her fist tighten, "Leave her alone." She stated a little more firmly, but she was once again ignored as Dorian narrowed his eyes and Tessa started to sob violently.

"Leave her alone!" She exclaimed, standing up.

Tessa was starting to convulse on the floor.

"LEAVE HER THE HELL ALONE!" Aria screamed as she threw herself at Dorian, for once without hesitation. She caught him by surprise as her arms wrapped around his waist and she tackled him to the floor.

His head hit the ground hard, and momentarily his concentration was broken.

Tessa reacted violently, springing up from her fetal position on the floor and backing away quickly, her body shaking and her breathing labored from raw terror.

Dorian wasted no time gripping Aria by the collar and launching her into the nearby wall like a ragdoll, snarling like a rabid dog. "Bitch!" He spat, as a sick crack was heard and Aria slumped to the floor, unmoving.

Tessa shook her head, desperately trying to clear the horrifying images from her head. Her eyes widened as her memories began to rearrange themselves correctly, and her eyes blazed with a hellish fury as she stared at her tormentor. The bastard who had made her re-live her mother's death. Her fists clenched as she turned her attention to the obviously unconscious Aria.

"Hey, fucker," She growled, her body rigid as she prepared to unleash vengeance, "I sincerely hope you're ready to die." She hissed.

Dorian gave a twisted smirk and readied his stance.

She flew at him, her rage manifesting in a severe lack of concentration as her fists were launched sporadically and fast, desperately trying to nail him in the face.

Dorian had no time to react offensively as all his attention became focused on sheer defensive tactics, trying to block the sloppy but impossibly fast blows. He sighed, knowing that now was the time to play dirty. The girl was erratic, blinded by her hatred for him, she had even neglected the tools at her disposal that Selene had gifted her with.

Tessa reared her arm back for yet another strong punch, but stumbled when she realized that she had been swinging at nothing but air. "Damn," She swore, realizing a fraction of a second too late that the Follower had transformed into shadow. She spun around quickly, just in time to duck a kick sent at her head.

However, she failed to realize that Dorian, far older and much more experienced in fighting, had begun to back her into a corner, and it was only until her next attempt at a dodge, when her head collided with the wall, did she notice that she and Aria had both gravely underestimated their opponent. Blackness commenced to creep into the corners of her eyes and she swore at her stupidity.

She had just enough time to hear Dorian's smug declaration.

"Game over."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Trysten landed in a crouched position on the rocky pavement, his head snapping up immediately as he waited for Lance to land. In a few moments, a hardly noticeable shift in the night occurred, and Lance appeared immediately, his arms crossed and his eyes closed in concentration.

Hesitantly, Trysten stood up and looked around, "You're sure this is where they are?" He asked quietly, the bare illumination from the sliver of moon casting shadows all over the various crates and dumpsters in the alleyway.

Lance gave a barely perceptible nod, "I sensed their auras; they definitely came this way."

Silence reigned as coffee and azure colored eyes scanned the area, tensing at every flicker of the shadows. After a few moments, Lance sighed, "We must have just missed-" But he stopped his sentence short to duck as a stilettod heel came crashing towards his head. "Never mind." He deadpanned, whirling around to face his opponent. December smirked back at him, her blue eyes lit up in excitement of the impending fight.

Trysten turned around just in time to meet the bony fist of Isaac as it came crashing against his cheek, snapping his head back. He rubbed the tender spot, "Ow." He muttered, not sounding pained in the least, as he returned the hit with just as much enthusiasm, "This is the last time I'm asking, where's Riley?" He demanded.

December giggled almost childishly, "Not telling."

Lance exhaled in aggravation and pressed his fingers to his temples, sending a mind wave to December; she appeared dazed for a moment before she abruptly broke the contact, "No fair." The female Follower pouted.

Lance shrugged apathetically, "She's with Yvonne," He told his counterpart, "There's not alot of time."

Trysten turned hastily while Isaac punched through air, snarling in irritation. "What do you propose we do?" He panted as he grabbed the foot Isaac had aimed for his stomach and twisted it, sending the male Follower falling towards the ground, but before contact he quickly transformed into shadow and disappeared.

"They're strong, even if we both fight this will take awhile," Lance muttered back as he blocked the vicious punches December was sending at his face.

"Less talking, more fighting!" Isaac growled, appearing above Lance as he tackled him to the ground by dropping on his shoulders. Lance had no time to react as he collided viciously with the concrete.

"Lance!" Trysten yelled, running towards him, only to dodge Isaac as he flew passed his shoulder to crash into a row of trash bins. "What the-?"

Lance stood up shakily, heaving from exhaustion after he had just chucked Isaac off of him, December stayed back, tensing and preparing for Lance's next blow, "Trysten." He said crossly, "You said you would be the one to bring her back, right?"

He nodded hesitantly.

"Then shouldn't you make good on your promise?" Lance asked flatly.

Trysten stared at his almost brother in shock, "You mean-?" He, for once, stammered. Confused beyond all belief why it was Lance, the one who was dead-set against the rescuing of Riley from the beginning, was proposing that he go on alone.

"You can't fight these two," He said dismissively, turning to face December, "You'll only get hurt, you might as well make yourself useful."

The auburn-haired boy's jaw dropped, then closed as he nodded somberly, "You're right." He said softly, realizing the angle his friend was playing, and his fists clenched, "Lance, thank you."

Lance turned his head to look at him, and Trysten could tell by the pain apparent in his eyes that he felt he was saying goodbye forever, "Trysten, my name is Zahi." He whispered.

"I'll come back, and I'll bring her with me." He vowed as his feet began to disperse into the night.

Zahi nodded, "You'd better," He muttered, staring at him, "I hate breaking _my_ promises."

Trysten swallowed, his throat feeling tighter than it ever had before, "Goodbye, Zahi."

He grunted, "For now."

And with that, Trysten disappeared into the shadows.

December, who had watched the conversation with interest, tensed as she realized she had just let someone go after Riley, to stop her conversion. She was torn between two sides, knowing that if this Trysten were successful, it would be her hide. Yet…the memory of Riley's cold, dead eyes haunted her still.

The rather handsome brunette cracked his neck and turned towards her, "You ready?" He questioned quietly, getting into a fighting stance.

December's sapphire eyes darted from her opponent to the trash bins that Isaac had been propelled into and she exhaled, "You realize that if that punk's successful, it's my ass right?" Yet she made no move to follow the boy who had escaped the fight.

A miniscule smile crept onto his face, "Hm. It's been awhile."

"Awhile since what?" December snapped.

Zahi cracked his neck, "Since I've gone against an honorable opponent."

She snorted, "Honorable my-" She was cut off as Isaac made his way out of the aluminum canisters, swearing up a storm as he violently kicked one of the bins.

"Where the hell's the other one?" He demanded, peering frantically for Trysten.

December sighed, and stated smoothly, "He ran away."

"Piss!" Was the response.

Zahi cleared his throat and spread his legs so they were shoulder-width apart, standing tall and proud he said slickly, "We all have gifts from the Atrox, do we not? Why don't we fight the way Followers were meant to? I'm tired of throwing punches." His eyes darkened, and for the briefest of seconds, flashed yellow. The shadows curled around him like smoke, whipping quickly and making his hair stand on edge, his booted feet lifted slowly off of the ground as they began to make the transformation, "I may be a little rusty," He stated, enjoying the looks of reevaluation he was receiving from the pair of bewildered Followers who had clearly underestimated him, "But there's only two of you."

Isaac felt his eyes bug out, overcome by the force of power the once Follower was exerting as it began to pulse like a demonic energy. December wrapped her arms around her shoulders tightly and took a few steps back, giving a dry swallow.

"Who are you?" She asked, her voice soft and awed as she watched with wide eyes.

He smirked, pressing his palms together as he gathered his mental concentration, "Your worst nightmare."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

That's where I leave you today, cliffie I know. I was going to add Zahi, Isaac, and December's fight scene to this chapter but to be honest I want to make that one REALLY MEGA good and I'm too impatient to get this chapter out to do so and I figured this chapter was 25ish pages anyways so it can wait.

I'm very sorry again for the delay.

_Next Up_: Zahi faces off against the dastardly duo, what exactly happens to Tessa and Aria, Trysten tracks down Riley and Yvonne, and The Cold Fire ceremony begins and ends with an unexpected result!

Three chapters left people!

Oh! For those of you unacquainted with French curse words, _Merde_ means Shit.

!nym!


	21. 17 Trysten's Surrender: Frigidus Ignis

_Night's Children: Nox Noctis_

**Disclaimer: **(I don't think I've done one yet! Le gasp!) The only things I own are characters you've never heard of before either this story or Aliena Misercordia. Although I did try to kidnap Tymmie once…let's just say it didn't work out so great as now there's this whole 'restraining' order thing.

**AN:** It has come to my attention that this is now the longest DOTM fanfic on the site! O.O wowee.

Oh, I've discovered I kinda suck at fight scenes. My bad.

OHMYGOSH THERE'S FLUFF! FLUUUFFFFF! Inthischapter. It's terribly sappy…but I don't know…sap is good sometimes? Right? After all, that's what they make maple syrup out of (nods knowingly). And pancakes are fluffy, ergo, fluff plus sap equals a mediocre breakfast! Huzzah! … No I'm not writing this at three in the morning…achem…anyways…

Major thank yous to **Shadow** **Goddess** **Akhet** and **Dreamfantasy13** for the great reviews and support! This chap's for you two!

**Chapter Seventeen: Frigidus** **Ignis: Trysten's Surrender**

Dorian had to resist the urge to actually smile for once as he heaved the fallen blonde goddess over his shoulder. His left hand was fisted into the curly haired one's collar as he dragged her along the floor. Two Daughters of Selene, soon to be three, defeated by the Incinti all in one night. The Atrox was sure to be pleased, and would perhaps, vanquish and destroy all of those irksome Infidi once and for all when it realized their ineptitude.

He craned his neck to take another look at the blonde, Tessa, he thought her name had been. Her pain was sweet to him, and fulfilling. Even more so than that of the Lecta's since she was far more emotionally attached to her memories. Her screams had given him a delicious thrill. His normally expressionless face twisted into a sort of morbid half-grin, he would definitely request that the Incinti let him play with her a bit more before she was handed over to the Atrox.

The girl on the floor groaned, her head lolling to the side. Dorian's eyes widened momentarily; surprised that she was regaining her consciousness so quickly after she had hit the wall. No normal human would be able to regenerate like that. He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair, letting some strands loose of his ponytail. He had to act fast.

Situating and balancing Tessa's weight on his right shoulder, and gripping the collar of the other's shirt more tightly, he began to stomp towards the door, kicking it open as he went out into the hall of the complex. He knew that Yvonne had forbid changing into shadow due to the Infidi threat, and she was the last person whose wrath he wanted to incur. It forced him to travel, carrying the two girls, the ancient pedestrian way, but it was no matter. Witnesses were not an issue, Dorian was one of the best mind manipulators the Atrox had at its disposal, and those wanting to pick a fight would easily get more than they bargained for.

Dragging the one girl and wrapping his spare arm around the waist of the other, Dorian began to trudge down the hall to the elevator, a slight whistle escaping his lips as he hauled off his prizes. Fortunately, none of the annoying and nosy neighbors peaked their heads out of the doorways, and it was silent. He pressed the elevator button and was satisfied when he heard the tell-tale 'ting!' noise that signified it had arrived, he was even more satisfied to discover that the elevator was empty, not a rare occurrence but he was nevertheless thankful for being spared the nuisance of mind manipulation on the silly-putty brains of _normal_ people.

Dorian once again kicked open the door to the building with his heavy boot, giving a sigh of content as he began to breathe in the cool night air. There was a sliver of moon hanging in the sky and he winced slightly, but the pain was endurable. His inky eyes trailed over to the parking lot, where Yvonne's rather flashy Mercedes was parked. The three trainees shared the car, and Dorian was glad for the extra key in his coat pocket.

The curly girl's heeled shoes began to scrape on the pavement and once again a tiny groan escaped from her parted lips. Her knuckles dragged across the sidewalk, yet Dorian noticed that no blood had accumulated from the abrasions. Strange.

He shrugged to himself, content to keep his curiosities at bay until the _Frigidus Ignis_ ceremony had concluded. He was about ten feet away from the Mercedes before he noticed that someone was leaning against the expensive sports car.

Dorian stared at the man, casually slumped against the side, his elbow resting on the hood. In his left hand he held a smoldering cigarette as he let the smoke billow out of the side of his mouth. Despite the fact that it was night, the man wore sunglasses, obscuring his eyes. His hair, jet-black and cut choppy above the shoulders, hung in his face, which held a multiple variety of piercings. From what Dorian's analytical observation could gather, the man had a silver stud in his chin, two hoops on the lower left side of his lip, two more hoops in his left eyebrow and three in the right. He was dressed in all black, and his thumbs were painted the color. Dorian was quite sure he had never met the imposer before.

"Get off." He grunted flatly, knowing that a good glare would most likely scare this punk off in moments.

The man turned to him, and a crooked grin spread across his face, revealing even, white teeth. His left hand absently flicked the ash from the cigarette off on the hood of the car, and he rose an eyebrow, "Nice girls," His voice was low and smooth, "Why do you need two?"

"I'm their designated driver, get the hell off." Dorian could hear his teeth grinding as he muttered out the lie.

"Naw," The man trailed off, "It's too nice of a car." He lifted the sunglasses to the top of his head, revealing a pair of the coldest gray eyes Dorian had ever seen. The mystery man seemed to scrutinize the two unconscious girls, and something akin to disappointment settled on his features, as if they weren't what he was searching or expecting for. "Pity." He said under his breath, but Dorian caught it.

"What?" Irritation had definitely swollen inside of him.

The man looked up at him, almost sorrowfully, "They don't have the hair color I'm looking for."

Dorian exhaled through his nostrils angrily, "I don't have time for this," He growled, "I have a ceremony to get to, and if you make me late I _will_ _**kill**_ you."

The man laughed, "You kill me? That's rich."

Dorian cracked his knuckles, before he dropped the blonde on the ground next to the brunette and rolled his shoulders, "You have three seconds."

The man said nothing, simply took another drag on his cigarette.

"One." Dorian's voice was sinister and would have sent an average person away in tears, but the stranger was not affected, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

"Two."

The man stubbed his cigarette out on his bare palm, not even flinching. Dorian was momentarily impressed, but still annoyed nonetheless.

He inhaled and began to say 'Three.' but fell short when an excruciating pain suddenly hammered through his head. Dorian dropped to his knees, clutching the sides of his skull until his knuckles were bleach white, his mouth contorted in a silent scream. His head sluggishly took a look to the man, and could not conceal his shock when he saw the once gray eyes transform into a yellowish hue.

The man tilted his head to the side, as if to observe his handiwork, "Having fun yet?" He taunted, then paused and leaned closer, "Or is this the part when you kill me?"

Dorian struggled to articulate, but the pain increased ten fold, making it impossible to form a coherent thought.

The man in black gave a look of disgust, "You're supposed to be the great mind manipulator of the _Incinti_? And here you are, sniveling like some beaten down dog." He hissed between his teeth, but Dorian was immune to the insults as his head refused to stop spinning, "I'd ask you where your counterparts went, particularly that bastard Isaac, but I know you don't have any clue where they're going." The poor illumination from the streetlight glinted across his face, creating shadows and making him look demonic. "You know it's a Cold Fire, I'll give you that much credit, but you don't know where it's being held, _do_ you?"

Dorian was silent, collapsing on the ground and squirming.

The man cleared his throat and reiterated, "Do you?"

He summoned up all the willpower he had to shake his head.

"Just as I thought. How pathetic you rookies are. Absolutely useless for information." He stated coldly, glaring at the flinching form on the ground, then letting his phosphorous eyes drift to the two collapsed Daughters of the Moon. "I really should just kill you and relieve you of your misery and the world of your ineptitude."

Dorian gave a small whimper of protest, which only seemed to disgust the man more. "No, I have a better idea for you." He stated, hunching over and resting on the heels of his combat boots, "I'm going to make you relive every single worst memory you made your victims live through, I'm going to make you scream like you made them scream." He grinned maliciously, "Tell me, how's it feel to be at the complete mercy of a cold-blooded bastard like me?"

It was silent for a while, before the struggling Follower managed to choke out, "Who?"

"Who am I?" He clarified mockingly, "Why, I have a lot of names. They call me murderer, torturer, the son of the Satan himself, even." His smirk grew, "You, my dear Dorian, can call me Tymmie."

The Follower's eyes widened in recognition of the name, "Ty-"

"That's correct, the right hand of the Devil. The second in command of _Infidus_." To make his point, Tymmie lifted up the hem of his shirt to reveal the word tattooed across his chest, "Feeling nervous? Scared even? You ought to be."

His breath came out in wheezes as another sharp jab of pain went through him, "Why?" He croaked.

"Why am I wasting my obviously precious time to torture you? A lowly _Incinti_ Follower not even worth the scum under my boot?" His face twisted from one of cruel amusement to one of anger, "I have my reasons. One, I just don't like you. Not even remotely." He lifted two fingers, "Two, I don't respect your methods, the most idiotic creature can manage to create pain by making someone repeat a harsh past," Yet another finger, "Three, your moronic associate Isaac stole my prize." He stood up, his boot crushing Dorian's fingers from where they were splayed across the ground, "But most importantly? Because I know that it was _you_, of all the whelps and ingrates of the Atrox, who broke her." He ground his toe, causing Dorian's fingers to roll brutally against the rough concrete. "And she is only mine to break." A satisfying snap was heard throughout the night as one of Dorian's fingers broke under the pressure.

Tymmie, apparently satisfied with the damage inflicted, began to walk away, and the pain immediately receded from Dorian's skull.

Dorian pushed himself up off of the ground and began to feel nausea and bile rising in his throat as he panted, his head throbbing from the invasion upon his thoughts.

Tymmie stopped in his steps, and gave a slight turn of his head back towards the recovering Follower, "I don't care about those two," He pointed to the unconscious Tessa and Aria, "They're not my concern, so I'll leave them for you." Once again the macabre grin made its way to his face, "That is, if you can remember who they are after I'm done."

The relieved expression of his face morphed back into one of horror as Dorian recalled Tymmie's earlier promise, "No-!" He pleaded.

"Don't care." Tymmie cut him off, and with a flick of his hand, the pain returned back to the mind-manipulating Follower.

He collapsed on the ground, as thousands upon thousands of memories came at him, the memories he had imposed upon his victims. Deaths, betrayals, sorrows, broken hearts- all came rushing to him at once and the vivid images seemed never ending.

It was then that it was Dorian's turn to scream.

Tymmie simply stalked off into the night, giving no indication that he was listening.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Jimena gave a relieved sigh as the manila file slid back into the cabinet drawer. The search for Yvonne's renting records had taken surprisingly little time, with the reluctant assistance of a certain grouchy police officer.

"Are we finished yet?" Gordon grunted from the side, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall.

Jimena rolled her eyes but nodded, shutting the filing drawer, "All finished. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

The response to this was a snort as Gordon shifted from his place and sighed, "Let's get out of here then, before someone comes in and notices what's what."

She groaned, but nevertheless turned sharply on her high-heeled shoes and headed out the door into the hallway. Gordon put his hands in his pant's pockets and followed after her, grumbling something incoherent.

The receptionist at the front of the building gave Jimena a quizzical look, but abruptly found something else to do as she shot him a death glare, confidence radiating off of her like the old days. Her partner shook his head in either exasperation or incredulousness and muttered a "Goodnight Bob," To the poor terrified man behind the desk.

In a few moments they were in Jimena's car and Gordon immediately buckled his seatbelt, "Where are we going?" He asked grimly.

"When I was on the phone with Aria, she mentioned that Imy was staying at her ex-boyfriend's apartment, we should go there and see if she can fight, we'll need all the help we can get." Jimena stated matter-of-factly as she turned the key in the ignition and drove off onto the traffic-infected streets.

"Do you know where this apartment is?" Gordon asked as she turned onto the freeway.

She nodded, "When they were dating, Imy and Riley would sometimes stop by there."

The speed of the car accelerated until it hit about eighty miles an hour, the bright city lights becoming a blur of color as the scenery flashed by.

Gordon sighed and stared out the passenger's side window, drumming his fingers on the tops of his knees, "So about how much time do we have?" He asked without looking at her. When he waited for a few moments without a response, he noticed that the car was starting to veer towards the left side of the lane, towards the oncoming traffic. "Castillo?" He questioned before he looked to the driver. "CASTILLO!" He swore.

She was staring dead ahead, her eyes glazed over and vacant. Her hands clutched the steering wheel tightly. Her focus wasn't on the road, or the fact that they were about three seconds away from getting pulverized by a semi-truck.

"Shit!" He cursed, unbuckling his seatbelt and stretching over the armrest to grab the wheel before Jimena killed them all. The loud bellow of the truck's horn resonated within the air as Gordon jerked the wheel to the right at the last possible moment, missing a sideswipe with the sixteen wheeler by a hair. He straightened the car before he drove it slowly into a ditch. Breathing heavily with cold sweat beads forming on his forehead he numbly pressed the hazard lights.

"Goddamn." He whispered to himself; clutching over his chest, "I'm too old for this shit." He muttered, before he turned his attention on Jimena, fury darkening his gaze, "What the **hell **was that!"

Jimena slowly blinked, as it appeared her wits had returned to her. Her face was pale and eyes were wide as she sluggishly inquired, "What are we doing in a ditch?"

"You went catatonic on the **freeway**!" Gordon growled. "You almost got us pancaked by a SEMI TRUCK!"

Her features darkened as she said, "I had a vision."

"While you were driving?" Gordon had noticeably calmed down at the admission.

"Yes."

Gordon exhaled as he put a hand on top of his head, "What was it?"

Jimena just shook her head and turned off the hazard lights and opted instead for a blinker, "We need to get to Imy's as soon as possible, I'll explain on the-" She was cut off as Gordon's heavy hand rested on top of hers, she looked up at him with curiosity.

"I'm driving," Was all he stated, already getting out of the car, "Bad luck and car crashes just seem to follow you Selene followers like flies over a rotting corpse."

Jimena grimaced at the mental image, but nevertheless switched sides, for once deciding to leave her stubbornness aside.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The sound of thunder rumbling filled the alleyway as two figures were hurtled to the ground, a sickening crack echoed as both of their skulls connected harshly against the concrete.

A pair of yellow eyes watched dispassionately, looking every bit the cold-hearted killer that he normally hid. The shadows danced and responded to his commands flawlessly, as he caused them to wrap around his opponents. Inside, he swore, as he knew that once upon a time he could have effortlessly disposed of the two, but he was out of practice, corroded. It was not a normal occurrence to draw upon the powers the Atrox had given him, but dire situations called upon dire circumstances, so here he was. Fighting against a Regulator and a Follower taught by Yvonne.

The two stood up shakily, their cuts and abrasions disappearing immediately, Zahi allowed himself to be impressed for a moment, so he was squaring off against two Immortals. The pair was strong, and when their powers were combined they were a match for Zahi. However, what he didn't have in strength, Zahi more than made up for with experience.

It was the girl who stood up first, robotically popping her jaw back into place and shaking loose her hair, a curtain of white falling around her like some sort of perverse halo.

"Nice hit," The skinny one, Isaac, muttered as he too stood. Spitting out some excess blood and, Zahi noticed with amusement, a tooth, he said, "Mind if I return it?"

He raised an eyebrow. During fights Zahi was not one for banter. He was ruthless, quick, and efficient, qualities which had led to his rise in the Atrox's power. Once, he had flaunted his evil, with a score of minions donned in tattoos and firearms, but roughly five years in exile and an additional ten working the labor pits of Nefandus had sobered him. He had seen nightmares come to life a hundred times over, and the horrors that the pair of Followers facing him were attempting to instill were children's games compared to what he had lived.

He gave the smallest ghost of a smile, the old feelings of adrenaline surging within him, as he stated coolly, "Try your best."

Immediately, Isaac launched into an offensive maneuver with the shadows, sending a bruising force directed at Zahi, while December drew power to her for a crushing mental blow. Zahi narrowed his eyes in concentration as he attempted to absorb Isaac's manipulated shadows. He managed to halt the moving tendrils with his hands, the force causing his boots to slide backwards against the asphalt. Isaac watched smugly, his own eyebrows furrowed in focus as he continued to press the shadows into the ex Immortal.

Zahi snorted, gritting his teeth he abruptly flicked his wrists, sending the hurtling blast back towards its source. Isaac's smug countenance fell abruptly, realizing he had been tricked into thinking he had the advantage. He dodged the concussive energy by jumping sideways quickly, the force missing by a hair.

December refused to hesitate as she sent out a telepathic attack that would freeze an opponent's central nervous system and therefore their movements, her specialty. Zahi simply batted the imaginary assault away with his mental shields like a fly and she felt her jaw drop. "There-there's no way!" She stammered, taking a half step back, "My attack never misses!"

"Then you have to try harder," Came a low voice by her ear and December ironically felt herself freeze, how had he appeared behind her so fast?

"Holy shit," She whispered, whirling around impossibly fast, bringing her leg up for an axe-kick and desperately hoping her stiletto would connect with this irksome ex-Follower's temple.

"Too slow," Chided his voice, once again from behind her and she let out an animalistic growl of frustration as she jutted her elbow backwards towards where his stomach should be. She hissed with clenched teeth as she hit nothing but air.

Isaac watched the scene before him with cold, calculating eyes. The liberated Follower, had revealed himself to be Zahi, a once hot shot who he knew all too well. Once upon a time, when he had first been crossed over, Isaac had been a part of Zahi's minions, the brash and rage infested goat punkers that had proudly displayed their evils with handguns, tattoos, and almost Satanic imagery.

Though Isaac was different now, more professional and ruthless, and there was the fact that he had never met Zahi personally before this night, he couldn't resist the surge of pride within him as he gazed at his opponent. So this was the almighty Zahi? God of the Underworld, the man who was once half a step away from the _Incinti_? The Follower who had once inspired fear and terror with the mere mention of his name had been reduced to a boy wearing faded black clothes with a shaggy haircut in his late teens? Pathetic.

Isaac continued to evaluate not only Zahi's attack strategies and defense, but also his partner's. He noticed, with some distaste, that December allowed emotion to overrule her during a fight; anger drove her attacks and movements. The rage and stubbornness gave her an advantage against small-fry opponents, but Isaac knew that against a veteran like Zahi she was outclassed easily. He was momentarily awed however, when she landed a swift uppercut to the enemy's jaw, sending his head back with a resonating crack and effectively ending the cat and mouse game Zahi was playing with her.

"ISAAC!" She barked, blowing wayward strands of hair out of her face as she charged Zahi with a flurry of attacks, both physical and mental, "A little help here!"

Isaac continued to watch, gauging his opponent's strengths and weaknesses. It didn't take long for him to discover that Zahi's fighting strategy relied mostly on defensive techniques as opposed to an offensive. He merely continued to block all of December's fists and kicks with a practiced and patient ease, his eyes occasionally darted to ensure Isaac was still standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and not rushing in to join the fray.

"Isaac you dick!" December screamed as Zahi managed to sneak in a kick to her stomach, sending her sprawled across the concrete, "What the hell's the matter with you? Help!"

Zahi's gaze once again flicked up to the Regulator, who stood there stoically, when Zahi saw that Isaac had no intentions whatsoever of assisting his rookie companion a flash of disgust flew over his face, and he shook his head before returning his attention to the white haired girl.

"Once I'm through with him I'm _so_ kicking your ass!" December screamed, launching herself off of the concrete and aiming for Zahi's head, connecting with a poof of shadow as he transformed effortlessly. A punch caught her in the ribs from the side where Zahi had teleported to, but she twisted at the last possible second, using the momentum to hook her left leg around Zahi's knees and send him falling to the ground.

Zahi's reflexes were quick, however, and he transformed before he face planted, and reappeared in front of December, giving her no time to register as he wrapped shadows around her ankles and arms, effectively pinning her down.

She struggled fruitlessly, baring her teeth like a grizzly as she attempted to wield her Follower influences over the shadows to get them to release her, but it was to no avail, Zahi had a far greater power over them and they only tightened as a result.

But, December noticed, Zahi was panting heavily and his eyes were plastered shut in an extreme concentration. It was obvious that he was out of practice, for although his strength was immense he lacked the stamina to uphold it.

She sneered at Isaac, "Fucking bastard!" She shrieked, knowing he had let her serve as a punching bag so he could merely observe his opponent, she was the distraction, the test subject, and oh how that pissed her off.

"Although I'm sure he deserves it, a lady shouldn't swear." Came the calm, albeit strained, voice of Zahi as the shadows wrapped tighter around her and she could see black fuzz beginning to creep into the corners of her eyes.

"I'm no lady," She retorted, struggling to keep her conscience even though she already knew Zahi was within her mind and causing the fatigue to spread rapidly. She began to squirm, trying to get out of the bounds, but all that resulted was her fingers becoming numb and her body beginning to go slack. "What the hell is this?" She demanded, not accustomed to the sensation.

Even though he tried to hide it, December could hear the laughter in his voice, "You don't know? It's the technique you attempted on me earlier, the freezing of the central nervous system. I found it fascinating, so I reversed its effect on you, slightly modified of course."

A bitter chuckle made its way out of her mouth as she began to feel the numbness spreading until it reached her neck, "Damn, you're good," She sighed before her head lolled to the side, indicating she had lost her consciousness.

Before Zahi had even a moment to admire his handiwork, a fist connected to the back of his head, pitching him forward a few steps, "Cheap shot." He muttered, regaining his wits and stance.

Isaac gave his crooked, yellow smile, "They're the ones that work best."

Zahi sent a sympathetic look to the trash-talking girl who was crumpled against the ground, "What a disgusting way to exploit your companions."

Isaac shrugged, unscathed, "Always look out for number one; I learned that from the best."

The barest flicker of curiosity graced his features, "Oh?"

The Regulator's eyes gleamed almost maniacally as he lifted the sleeve of his dress shirt, revealing the depiction of a half-man, half-goat across his bicep, "Hello teacher," He spat mockingly.

The irony of the situation was not lost on Zahi as a slight frown graced his features, "I see." Was all he stated, cracking his neck and readying his defensive stance, "Shall we begin?"

"I already have," Was Isaac's blunt reply, his crooked smile becoming fiendish.

Confusion settled over Zahi's features before he began to realize that his legs were freezing and numbing underneath him, he sunk to his knees on the ground, "The girl…just a distraction…" He choked out, cursing his stupidity as he felt the exact same process overcoming his own body as it had December's.

Isaac snorted haughtily, "Of course. What, you thought I was just using her to tire you out?" He smirked, "I know that if it was a fair fight, both December and I would be toast in minutes," There was a cold glint in his eyes, "I had to fight dirty."

Zahi attempted to talk, but it was becoming difficult to let alone breathe as he lungs weren't functioning properly. He turned his coffee eyes up sluggishly as he wheezed.

"That's right, I underestimated you when we began fighting, but once you revealed your true identity I knew it had become serious, so I let you think I was simply some cold bastard while you exerted all of your focus on December. I knew I couldn't take you one on one." Isaac sat in a hunched position, seemingly evaluating the Follower, "I mean, after all, I used to hero-worship you. The almighty Zahi. The Atrox's favorite protégé aside from Stanton." He snorted as he flicked a finger against Zahi's sweat-beaded forehead, causing him to fall over backwards as he no longer had control over his balance or body.

Isaac simply sidestepped over Zahi's rapidly freezing body as he scooped December up into his arms bridal style. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen," He sneered contemptuously, "Sweet dreams Zahi, I've got a party to attend." He looked over his shoulder, "Oh, and by the way, I also made a modification on December's attack," His gaze turned almost frostbitten, "Instead of a temporary paralysis, this version is most definitely _lethal_." He crowed, "I hope you're as good at mind manipulation as you claim, otherwise you won't live out the night, Immortal or no, as this attack destroys faster than you can even hope to heal yourself."

With those parting words, Isaac and December vanished into the night air, as Zahi lay on the ground motionless, struggling to stay alive as his body began to shut down on itself.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Riley shuddered unconsciously as she looked at the place Yvonne had led her to; it was so painfully familiar she tensed, an action that did not go unnoticed by Yvonne.

"What's the matter, honey? Crowd shy?" She chided, as there were in fact more and more Followers filing into the building.

"That's not the half of it," She whispered as she saw the familiar black exterior, rotting sign, and loud metal music pulsing from the building. They had chosen to hold her _Frigidus_ _Ignis_ ceremony at _The_ _Dungeon_, and the bitter humor of it all almost made her chuckle. This was where Imy and she had first come across Followers, where she had almost been crossed over by Tymmie.

Imy. A feeling of regret washed over her and she nostalgically wished at that moment Imy was beside her, cracking jokes to lighten the heavy atmosphere of the situation. But she wasn't, Imy hated her now. She wouldn't be here tonight; instead, there was Yvonne.

"Let's get you going, hm?" She asked, her eyes darting from face to face within the crowd that was inching towards the door, "The party is for you, after all."

Riley could tell by Yvonne's falsely sugared voice that what she really wanted was to get the process done and over with, she could feel her anxiety and nervousness coursing through her like a tsunami. And while Imy or Tessa would have called her out on her cowardliness, Riley simply stood there like a stone.

She felt Yvonne's nails beginning to dig into her upper arm, "I don't believe I ever introduced myself, I'm Yvonne." She said, all smiles.

Riley recalled December's earlier words '_She's one tough bitch. So don't get on her bad side'_, "I've heard of you." Was all she said flatly.

Her smile widened, "That's wonderful! Because I'm going to try and have the _Incinti_ assign you to me as your mentor to replace Isaac, super isn't it? Oh, and what's your name?"

Riley physically tried to restrain her eyebrows from shooting up to her forehead, "Riley." She muttered.

Yvonne let out a laugh that remarkably sounded like chimes, "Don't look so scared, Riley, it's better that you get me instead of some loser like Mason or god forbid even Isaac." Riley's head jerked back like she'd been slapped and Yvonne laughed louder, "See? Just the reaction I was anticipating." She looked at the club which was slowly filling up, "But enough chit-chat, we're expected."

With that, Yvonne sauntered up to the bouncer, practically dragging Riley in tow, "Hello there handsome!" She greeted.

The bouncer gave Yvonne an appraising eye before he grunted at Riley, "Who's she?"

The smirk on her face was apparent through her voice, "This is Riley. Riley _Zalank_." She purred.

The bouncer let loose the biggest, and most predatory, grin Riley had ever seen, "We've been waiting for you, go on in beautiful."

Riley continued to stare at him incredulously before Yvonne steered her into the club.

The heavy, droning music is what first caught her attention and she looked up to see the band playing. It was Absinthe; she recognized them from the times that they had shared a bill with The Discards. What she didn't know; was that the group was comprised entirely of Followers, their glinting yellow eyes flashing when the revolving lights fell upon their features.

Next to her, Yvonne was on her tippy toes, a hand covered over her eyes as she searched the crowd for presumably a familiar face. Riley's attention then immediately shifted to the throng of people, everyone there was dressed for a formal occasion, the men in tuxedos and dress shirts and the women in dresses and skirts. Most were dancing, and Riley could tell merely by expression alone that they were all feeling incredibly smug. She tensed, was her conversion such a big deal that it warranted such an occasion? There were easily a hundred Followers at the club, and suddenly a queasy sensation overtook her stomach.

It was then that the emotions of the crowd began their assault, lust, hate, anger, pride, joy, all wove in and around her psyche, conflicting her own emotions and threatening to overtake them. Taking a few deep, meditative breaths, she managed to channel the majority of them back into the crowd. When she was finished, she felt a pair of eyes on her and she turned to see Yvonne staring at her dubiously.

"What was that all about?" She wondered aloud.

A wane half smile crept onto her face, "My gift. I'm an empath."

An analytical expression crossed her features before she gave a comprehensive nod, "I see." Was all she stated, before she abruptly shook her head as if to clear her thoughts, "I'm going to go talk to a few up and ups about the ceremony tonight, stay over there and make yourself comfortable." She stated, jerking her thumb towards a few tables and chairs before she sauntered off.

Riley let out a breath she didn't know she was holding as she welcomed the ability to be shrouded in anonymity and away from the sea of dancers and Followers. She simply wanted to step into the fire and be done with it; she wasn't a people person and never would be. Plus, it took the edge off of her anxiety to leave as she felt the stares focusing on her and she grabbed the advantage to hide in the shadows of the dark part of the club.

As soon as she sat down, however, it seemed that her hopes of remaining a wallflower were shattered as a boy who looked to be around seventeen or so took a seat at her table across from her. His eyes were hazel in color, and his hair, dyed green, was combed over one eye. His features were plain, indistinctive.

"What's your name?" He asked, leaning across the table.

"Riley," She whispered.

He gave a smile that transformed his entire face handsomely, "I'm Zebulon, but you can call me Zeb." He extended a hand that Riley reluctantly shook. "So what's a pretty girl like you sitting on the sidelines for?"

If she didn't feel so completely dead inside, she would have blushed, "I don't like crowds." Was all she muttered simply.

He mock pouted, "But tonight's a big night! You ought to be enjoying yourself."

"I enjoy myself in the quiet."

If Zeb took the hint, he didn't heed it as he only scooted his chair closer to her, "You need to lighten up, it's not everyday the _Incinti_ score a _Lecta_ as important as this chick's supposed to be."

A flicker of something crossed over her face when she realized that this Zeb guy didn't know he was casually talking up the said _Lecta_. Perhaps, she could get some information? "What's the big deal, the Atrox chooses _Lecti_ all the time," She said hopefully off-handedly.

Zeb stared at her in amazement, "What's the big deal? Sweetheart, isn't it obvious?"

Riley shook her head, "I'm new." She stated.

He seemed to evaluate her before nodding understandingly, "I thought I would remember a cutie like you." In the shadows, Riley grimaced slightly, "So who you under?"

"Yvonne," Riley responded automatically, knowing it was almost true.

"Sheesh, I don't envy you," He stated bluntly, stretching his arms, "Anyways, this _Lecta_ is one of two that could possibly fulfill the prophesy."

"Prophesy?"

"Yeah, it was stated by some oracle of Selene, no less, that a child born of traitors to the darkness would lead to the uprising of the Atrox over the moon." He replied smoothly, leaning back in his chair, which Riley noticed with irritation, had once again scooted closer to hers.

His statement threw her off guard, there had been nothing said of a prophesy; only that Trysten could end the war between the _Incinti_ and _Infidi_, and Tymmie had said she was solely usable as bait. Not only that, but a child born of traitors? Her parents, traitors to the Atrox? It didn't seem believable, "Cassandra betrayed the Atrox!" She blurted, immediately cursing her stupidity.

Zeb narrowed his eyes at her, "How do you know she's Cassandra's?"

She scratched the back of her head, "I overheard Yvonne," She lied smoothly, attaching a little empathetic influence to her excuse so he would believe her.

It worked, Zeb shrugged casually, before he leaned over her some more, "This talk is boring, want to dance?"

Riley backed away from him slightly, not entirely comfortable with his proximity, "Maybe later?" She tried to skirt around it.

He let out a laugh devoid of any warmth, "You don't need to be so terrified, it's only one little-" His voice trailed off simultaneously as Riley felt a hand on her shoulder. She tensed, looking at it to discover it was a man's hand.

"She doesn't want to," Came a monotonous voice that made Riley's heart freeze in its chest as she identified it.

Zeb looked at the person behind her with a barely concealed sneer, "What are you, her boyfriend?"

"Perhaps," He drawled, then added, "Leave."

A moment of silence passed before Zeb stood up and stalked off, swearing something under his breath.

"Riley," He said in a tone much softer than with what he had addressed Zeb with.

She slowly turned around, and as blue eyes clashed with gray she felt her breath quicken incredibly, "Trysten?"

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Golden eyes opened with sloth as she first began to realize that her human pillow was no longer underneath her. Lethargically, she blinked a few times and attempted to stretch, only to be met with a sharp pain in her arm that caused her to whimper. Slowly her environment and situation registered and she cursed herself for falling victim to fatigue.

"Art?" Imy asked, using her good arm to prop herself up.

"Someone's coming," She heard him murmur from near the apartment's window.

She tensed, "Good or bad?"

Art's eyes were closed, and it was obvious that he was trying to concentrate, "I can't tell, their mental projections are all-"

At that precise moment, a vicious assault was started on Art's apartment door.

"Open up!" Came a bellow from the hallway.

"-crazy," Art finished lamely.

Imy immediately recognized the voice, "Jimena?"

"Imy! Are you in there? I CAN HEAR YOU! OPEN THIS DOOR THIS INSTANT!"

"Dammit woman, don't yell," Came a surly voice beyond the door that Imy also found to be familiar.

Art carefully unlocked the deadbolt and slowly inched open the door before an irate looking Jimena slammed it open for him. Behind her was a fair-haired, middle-aged man that Imy quickly identified.

"You brought the cop?" She exclaimed disbelievingly.

"Hello again, Ms. Ormond," Gordon deadpanned, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking like he'd rather not be there.

Art scratched his head, completely at a loss, "What exactly is going on?"

"There's not a lot of time," Jimena said crisply, returning to her strictly business mode that had made her famous with her protégés, "I need both of you to come with us right now."

"Why?" The brunette asked, also confused with the sense of urgency.

Jimena's dark eyes locked onto hers, "Something's changed, I just had another vision and if we don't act fast, two of your friends will die."

That was all the incentive Art and Imy needed before they looked at each other and simultaneously asked, "What do we need to do?"

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

As he stared down at her, something in his throat caught. He wasn't used to seeing her like this, more than likely no one was. He had thought her pretty before, but under this metamorphoses she was breathtaking. It was safe to say he had most definitely never felt this way about anyone, and all she had to do was stare at him. He knew it was tonight, ironically enough, that she looked more like a Goddess than she ever had before.

"Trysten?" She inquired carefully, as if not believing her own eyes.

"Are you alright? Have they…" He trailed off, not wanting to continue the statement as he lightly grabbed her shoulders.

She shook her head slowly and asked the question that he had least expected to hear, "Why are you here?"

The elated feeling in his chest depressed slightly, "What?" Was the intelligent response.

"I betrayed you! Why are you here!" Her voice had taken a panicked edge to it and her eyes darted around the crowd frantically.

"Betrayed?" Trysten felt his eyebrows raise on their own accord, "Riley, what are you talking about?"

"You…Tymmie…you shouldn't be **here,**" She looked down at the floor, her head spinning.

All Trysten managed to hear was Tymmie's name, "What did he do to you?" He demanded calmly despite anger welling in his chest, attempting to make eye contact.

"You said I failed, Imy, you, mother, Jimena, I failed everyone, why are you here?" She was rambling, and Trysten barely overheard the string of words.

"Riley, calm down, please," He whispered, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek and angling her face so she was looking at him. He was slightly surprised to see the emptiness in her eyes and it immediately registered. Tymmie, or someone near his skill level, had gotten to her, messed with her mind. "What do you remember?"

His voice was so soft sounding and reassuring, that Riley was already having a hard time believing her memories but she attempted to explain them anyways, "I saw… Imy said that she hated me, that I betrayed her and the Daughters. And you…you were a Follower, and it was my fault! I caved to my own inner desire to be free of the pressure, and because of that, you fell too." Trysten felt himself soften when he saw unshed tears collecting in the corners of her eyes, relieved to see that they weren't completely dead.

"Riley, I haven't fallen." Was all he said, and then added, "Imy doesn't hate you, in fact she's been worried sick about you to the extent that she asked for our help."

"But-" She protested, but she was cut off as Trysten pulled her into an embrace.

"I'm right here, everyone's all right. They lied to you, Riley." He murmured into her ear.

At first, she stood stock still against him, and an awkwardness settled between them but Trysten refused to let go. Slowly, hesitantly, she returned the embrace before she began to cling to him tightly, pressing her face into his chest as she let out a huge breath of relief. The two stood there silently for a few moments, as Trysten rested his head atop of hers and the feeling that this was undeniably right kept circling around his mind. It was then that he realized this was what he wanted from the moment he first set eyes on her a little over two months ago.

Riley's reaction was similar, she felt safe, like for only a moment she could entirely forget this stupid war and her fate. Her fists clenched around his shirt, as she tried to reassure herself that he was truly right in front of her, alive and with hope. "You're all right." She whispered, more to herself than to him.

"Yeah," He replied, his voice still as toneless as ever as he tightened his grip around her.

And it was in that moment of tranquility; that Riley's eyes widened and she realized the situation she had allowed herself to be tricked into. Trysten was safe, for now, the Daughters were as well. She had walked into this place of her own free will, had placed them all in danger due to her own stupid gullibility. She froze, which did not go unnoticed by the _Lectus_ as he pulled away slightly to look at her, a question in his eyes.

Raw terror ripped into her heart as it dawned upon her. Both she and Trysten were here, surrounded by Followers, and seconds away from a Cold Fire. She had led him here, albeit unintentionally, but the fact still remained. Her conversation with Tymmie filtered through her mind, and her throat ran dry. Trysten was in peril, and it was all her fault.

Slowly, painfully, comprehension overcame her. There was no escape for her tonight, if she left, Yvonne would know, even worse, she would know that Trysten was here as well. Deep sorrow filled her chest, as she then understood what she had to do.

"You need to leave." She hated the way her voice shook.

"Not unless you're coming with me," Was all he said, taking her hand and already heading towards the exit.

"Trysten! Stop!" She stated with such finality that he halted in his tracks. She exhaled, "I can't go with you." She said; her words dripped in remorse.

"Why not?" Hurt reflected across his features and guilt overcame her.

"I made my choice, don't let me make yours."

"That doesn't make sense."

She bit her lower lip, "It makes perfect sense. What Tymmie said was right," At his name Trysten grimaced, "If I fall, I _can't_ let you fall with me." Her voice was cold, but the tears welling in her eyes told him otherwise, "Don't you understand Trysten? _You're_ the other one. They want you as the heir to the Atrox! I'm _nothing_ to these people, you're the only one with the power to fight against them."

"There's no guarantee that I can resist them," He said somberly, "Not anymore. Each day that passes, my resolve grows weaker, Riley. You could be sacrificing yourself for someone who can't be saved."

"Isn't that what you're doing?"

The mood between the two shifted drastically as both Riley and Trysten reflected on her question, that was nowhere near an uncertainty. His head was staring at the floor as his fists repetitively clenched and unclenched as she tried to get her heart to stop pounding painfully within her chest.

"You don't have to do this," He spoke softly, his words embittered as he refused to look into her eyes.

She gave a hard swallow, "Yes I do."_ For you, for me, for everyone._

His head lifted, and she saw her pain mirrored in his eerie blue eyes that hid behind a curtain of unkempt, auburn hair, "I will stay. I will stay for you." The whispered confession surprised even him.

The saddest of smiles graced her lips as she tucked the unruly hair behind his ears, for once refusing to shirk away from her almost phobia of physical contact, "I can't ask you to do that."

"I can't leave you like this. I promised myself I wouldn't."

"Then leave and come back another day," She once again resumed gnawing on her lower lip, "Turn around and don't look back. Or you'll be stuck here." _Just like me._

"Riley?" The voice carried over the crowds, as simultaneously Trysten and Riley's heads shot up to find the source, Yvonne, who was yelling for her at the opposite side of the club.

"Go." She muttered, "Before she senses you too."

Riley could feel the heavy sensation of uncertainty and regret that was clinging to him like a fog, his emotions playing with her own reservations about sacrificing herself to save Trysten. But she fought against them; tonight had enabled her to build up quite a steely will against doubt.

"Riley-" He started, reaching out for her again.

"Just go!" She said, her frustration shocking even her as it leaked into her tone.

Something Riley couldn't recognize flickered across Trysten's face, and she noticed that almost instantaneously, all of the uncertainty had vanished, replaced with determination and she felt some relief wash over her. At least now the both of them could resign themselves to their individual fates.

Trysten's left hand fisted into her hair and he whispered, almost impossibly quietly, "Goodbye, Riley."

"Good-" She tried to return his sentiments, but she was cut off as she felt something press against her mouth. Her initial reaction was to freeze up, going as rigid as a board until she realized, just then that Trysten was, in fact, _kissing_ her.

Timidly, she responded, pressing back lightly, unsure of what to do. The simple little reply seemed to embolden him, as he grabbed her tightly against him and deepened the kiss, effectively freeing her previous inhibitions as she returned it full heartedly.

It was desperate, pleading, innocent, and bittersweet. This was their first kiss, and would more than likely be their only one. It was the singular most beautiful moment in Riley's life.

But it was over before it even began, as Riley could hear Yvonne's high-heeled shoes and calls coming closer. She broke away instantly, her eyes immediately darting to Trysten's face. He only stared at her, tracing his guitar-calloused thumb over her face gently as if trying to commit it to memory through touch. His eyes eventually met hers, and the message was understood. This was goodbye; no more words were needed.

It was his eyes that were the last thing she saw before he disappeared into the shadows, and the feeling of a heavy weight pressed down on her as she dutifully forced back the persistent tears in her eyes that kept threatening to spill.

A slender hand enclosed on her shoulder from behind and Riley heard the voice of Yvonne, although she couldn't process what she was saying for the life of her as her thoughts were solely centered on the auburn haired boy who had just taken her first kiss.

"Riley!"

Her head jerked up sluggishly to see a rather perturbed blonde Immortal.

"Where you even listening to me?" The honey that normally occupied her speech seemed to be dipped in poison, and Riley made a mental note not to ignore her.

"No." She answered bluntly and honestly.

Yvonne tilted her head sideways, "What's up with you? You seem frazzled."

"Nerves." Was the oh-so quiet reply.

The older girl shrugged her shoulders with a small 'hmph' noise of dismissal, "Best get over them now; the _Incinti_ is ready to start the ceremony." Gingerly, Yvonne grabbed Riley's hand and began to navigate her through the crowd that parted immediately for the pair as several yellow eyes stared in fascination at the fifteen year old.

Numbly, Riley allowed herself to be dragged towards _The Dungeon_'s namesake, the cellar that lay underneath the club, absently filtering the whispers that floated among the crowd.

"-She looks _just_ like her-"

"-There's no way, it has to be Cassandra's-"

"-But, she almost looks like-"

"-Holy crap, I didn't know she was the _Lecta_!"

"-Same eyes."

Yvonne tilted her chin up in the most profound superiority as she continued to lead Riley through the danker parts of the dungeons. She shivered as she began to notice the air getting colder and colder as they walked along, until she could even see her breath freeze as she exhaled. Frost patterns began to form over the cobblestone halls and the torches that illuminated the cellar sputtered as they fought for life. Her pale eyes could make out a bluish glow at the end of the walkway, and she tensed.

"This is it, honey, no going back now," Yvonne attempted to reassure her as she halted, signaling for Riley to stop as well.

Her eyes widened when she looked at her surroundings, for there was, in the center of the room, a blue fire, hissing and crackling. Around it in a circle were several dark-hooded figures, and their dark auras were all Riley needed to sense to determine that these were the Incinti members, come to watch her miraculous fall.

Her attention turned back to the flames as they danced in the darkness. They were almost entrancing, and she stared at them as they beckoned to her, seeming to pull her in like a black hole. This was what had been calling to her in the nightmares. This was her escape, her freedom; her curse. She could almost hear the whispers and the wonderful promises that she knew were lies. This, despicable as it was, was where she _belonged_. Cautiously, she took a step forward, then another, and another, until she was an arm's length away from the roaring fire.

She traced her fingertips over the flames as if they were a delicate silk, and they licked at her in response. Desperately, in one last moment of rebellion, she tried to recall Imy's laughter, Jimena's concern, and Trysten's kiss, but felt empty when all she could seem to recollect were already blurring memories as the thoughts of the fire commanded all of her attention.

Somewhere, someone had begun the chant. "_Lecta_."

"_Lecta_."

"_Lecta_."

Tears were streaming down her face as she stood on the edge of the Cold Fire, although she wasn't sure why.

_"Lecta."_

"_Lecta_."

"_Lecta_."

She thought of her mother then, for reasons unknown, her poor, broken mother, and wondered absently if she was watching her fall in her footsteps.

"_Lecta_."

"_Lecta_."

"_Lecta_."

She took a deep breath, and was clutching at the most valuable memory, that of hope, before she prepared to step into the flames.

She was ready now.

"_Lecta_."

Her foot crept its way into the embers-

"_Lecta_."

-She closed her eyes and waited for the fire to consume her whole.

Imagine her surprise, when the chanting stilled to be replaced by an awed silence and for an arm to hook around her waist at the last possible moment, pushing her backwards and away from the tempting cold.

She landed ungracefully on her backside, the trance was broken, and her eyes widened when she saw the silhouette of her rescuer.

Trysten stared back at her, his eyes soft and impossibly warm, and it was in those few, fleeting seconds that Riley recognized his intentions, his plan from perhaps the very beginning.

She scrambled to get up, despite the fact that there were arms beginning to grab at her, preventing her from reaching her goal, "**Don't**!" She cried as loud as she possibly could.

Trysten said nothing, only gave her the most heartbreaking smile she had ever seen as he stepped backwards.

And she watched, in wide-eyed horror, as he burned in the fire that was meant for her.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Hoped you guys liked it . Shocked? Surprised? No? Well, fine! (Nym goes into a corner to sulk)

Still looking for a beta/editor for this series (weeps uncontrollably) I know my chapters are kind of long, but I'll reward you handsomely. With what, I'm not sure but um…virtual ramen packets your kind of thing? Gift fic? Cameo? I don't care I'm desperate!

**Next Up: **Picking up the pieces, Riley's Savoir: The Aftermath

Two more chapters 'til The End ™ I'm so excited!

!nym!


	22. 18 Selene's Savoirs

_Night's Children: Nox Noctis_

**AN: **This is shorter than the other chapters, just because I felt it didn't need to be any longer.

I'm sorry this chapter took a little bit longer to come out, but the office that I work at has deadlines coming up, and Nym, being the corporate lackey that she is, has been overworked and brain dead.

Yay! Question and answer time!

**Question: **Is Trysten going to become like Stanton? –_asummerlovex_

**Answer: **No. He will be much worse.

Thus ends Question and answer time! Feel free to ask away, I will answer all of them! (note: ones that give away plot will be answered incredibly vaguely)

_/text/ _equals telepathic communication

**Chapter Eighteen: Riley's Savoir: The Aftermath**

Her first, and best, reaction was to struggle. Attempting to tear herself away from the vice-like grips on her arms, Riley endeavored to charge forward to the Cold Fire, pull Trysten away from it, and make everything all right again.

"Let me go!" She screamed, successfully wrenching away her left arm as she fought like a wildcat for Trysten's slowly dying hope, "Trysten, stop!" She pleaded desperately as three more hands took the place of the one she had just shaken off. "Walk out! Walk away!" She proclaimed, inching forward with a strength she didn't know she had possessed.

She could feel the bruises forming on her arms, the scrapes on her knees, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was that he was burning. Burning in her fire.

In the background, she could hear Yvonne's protests, "Someone control her! She's getting closer!"

But she ignored them, fighting to her utmost ability, sheer adrenaline controlling her movements, "Stop!" She cried again, her voice hoarse, "It wasn't meant for you! It's my fire! LET ME BURN! NOT YOU!" Her hand stretched and she realized she was reaching for nothing as out of the shambles of her thoughts, came the following words.

_"Leve fit quod bene fertur, onus.(1)"_ The statement whispered across her mind as her frantic attempts were stilled at the sound of the familiar monotone, and she sluggishly looked up, tears in her eyes to meet Trysten's, yellow light beginning to obscure the dazzling blue that she only now admitted that she loved.

A hand, covered in frost, reached out of the flames and cupped her chin, holding their gaze. And Trysten spoke, his voice harsh and not his own, "This fire is for two tonight, join me, _Lecta_."

She froze then, bewildered as he called her by that title. She was no longer Riley to him, she was _Lecta_, and she realized she had lost before she had even started playing. "No," She whimpered, shaking her head as both of her hands pathetically grasped at Trysten's, no, its wrist, attempting to shove it and the grip it had on her chin away. "No, no, no," She repeated like a mantra as its grip only tightened.

"It is too late," the boy who was once Trysten said, his hand lowering to her shoulder, his long fingers splayed across her collarbone as he gripped it tighter, "You've lost everything. This is the only salvation left for you."

Tears began to fill her eyes and she immediately hated them, "Give him back," She whispered, whatever fight that she once held disappearing quickly, "Please, just give him back."

Had her eyes not been obscured by the water filling them, she would have seen a brief struggle flit across his face, eyes flashing momentarily from yellow back to blue. But it was over quickly, and he shook her like a broken doll to emphasize his point, "There is no going back." The harshness of his voice receded, only slightly, and it was then that it occurred to Riley that the Atrox was speaking through Trysten while whatever was left of his hope burned to ash.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this," She muttered pathetically, "It was meant to be me, only me."

"No," The thing that was not Trysten sneered, "It was always meant for him, for both of you." His saffron eyes narrowed, "Do not run from me, little Riley." The way he said her name made her shiver, the flames curling around his face terrifying her.

"How could you do this to him?"

"He did this to himself." A wicked smirk crossed its face, "This was his choice. To surrender."

Disgust filled her, "Liar!"

He laughed, and it was flat, cold, "Why are you finding it so hard to believe? You almost did it yourself moments ago." There was a pause as the implications of his words hit her and she sunk to her knees, only propped up by the bruising grip on her shoulder. "It's your turn now."

With that, it dropped her to the ground a few feet from the base of the inferno, where in moments she was being picked up again by Followers, who began steering her in the direction of the flames. Dread filled her as she saw Trysten go limp in the fire, the presence of the Atrox itself leaving him as he sluggishly lifted open his brilliant, blue eyes, and stepped out of the fire. He looked at Riley, and she returned the gaze, hoping against hope that the old Trysten had survived the fire's influence. She prayed to see the emotionless, yet somehow gentle, features of the boy she could have grown to love.

That hope was effectively shattered when Trysten merely stepped aside, grinning wickedly as he gestured to the _Frigidus Ignis_.

The Followers grasping her dragged her back to the flames, and she struggled, but to no avail. She could feel the cold draft on her face as it roared and hissed. Her heels attempted to dig into the ground, to grasp anything, but it was for nothing as they simply slid across the floor to the frozen inferno. She tensed, and prepared for the end to come.

Yet, once again that night, the procession seemed to immediately halt as a flash of white light appeared right beside the Followers restraining Riley. An awed silence overfilled the room as everyone's, aside from Riley's, gaze drifted towards the interruption.

"You." Trysten bit out, his teeth clenched in agitation, and his eyes flashing phosphorous.

"You're damn right!" Came the fiery, and heartbreakingly familiar voice as Riley craned her neck to see the source of the disruption.

There, not a foot away from her stood Imy, her golden eyes blazing with barely suppressed fury and her arm in a sling. Using the momentary distraction, she quickly swung her leg up for an impromptu sidekick to the Follower's head, freeing Riley from his grasp as he crumpled to the ground. The Follower to Riley's left tensed, anticipating Imy's attack, but she disappeared and reappeared immediately behind him, wrapping her good arm around his waist and teleporting him elsewhere.

Riley wobbled on her two feet as she shakily regained her balance without the constraint of the Followers. Her head lifted, and she saw Trysten, power and fury bristling around him in torrents. She found the courage to speak, "Trysten, you can fight it." She whispered, taking a tentative step towards him.

He flinched for a moment and then chuckled, the same brutal sound as before, "Spare me your lectures, Riley." His palms pressed together, and she noticed he was drawing even more power from the Atrox for an attack, "This is where I belong, and I have you to thank for it. If you weren't so distracted by your ideas of nobility, you'd see that this is where you belong too."

Normally, Riley would recognize his biting words for what they were, a taunt, a provocation to get her closer to the Atrox. But this was not normal Riley, this was emotionally traumatized, exhausted, and crippled Riley and all those words brought were a stifling sense of guilt and regret.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

Trysten's normally expressionless face became twisted with a cruel amusement as he dislodged the attack, opening his mouth to speak, but once again a flash of light interrupted him.

"Grab my hand Riley." Imy said flatly, suddenly standing between the two, though her panting betrayed her earlier fight, "We need to go."

She shook her head, ignoring the offer, "I can't leave him." She spoke softly, making eye contact with her best friend, "This is all my fault!"

Imy's eyes darted from her practically sister to the man who was now more a stranger than anything else. Trysten stood there smugly, his arms crossed over his chest and Imy knew who had the advantage in this situation and it certainly wasn't her, "That isn't Trysten anymore." Was all she said, reaching and taking Riley's hand as a disc of light formed at her feet.

"No! Imy-" Riley began but was cut off as the light enveloped her.

An impasse of action occurred, most Followers present far too bewildered at the sudden turn of events, excepting a few, such as Yvonne, who was currently swearing vehemently. Imy and Trysten were trapped in a stare down, as Imy began to vanish into the night.

"She'll return," Was all Trysten said off-handedly to the rapidly disappearing Imy.

She narrowed her eyes, "Not if I have anything to do about it," She snapped coldly at her once friend.

He sneered, "You are no longer involved."

"I won't hesitate to fight you," She countered.

His eyebrows rose as he calmly stated, "No, but _she_ will."

It was the last words spoken between the pair as Imy too departed into the portal.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_It was an endless plain, full of nothing but death. There was a distinct absence of life; even the weathered and graying trees had withered away. Thunder rumbled in the distance, yet there was not a single cloud in the dust-colored sky. The boy shook, arms clutching around his shoulders as he shivered, the harsh winds whipping at him in the desert of decay._

_Suddenly, the ground underneath his feet began to disintegrate, and the floor began to dissolve into what appeared to be a substance similar to quicksand. He stood and watched in horror, paralyzed, as his feet began to sink into the undertow, dragging him along for the ride. The worse sensation was that he couldn't struggle, not even if he had wanted to. Slowly, the crumbling earth swallowed him, spreading upwards from his feet, to his knees, waist, shoulders, until it just barely reached under his chin. Inhaling deeply, the boy fluttered shut his eyes and waited for the world to end._

_But the apocalyptic closure never came, and boy noticed that the sinking sensation had disappeared. Cautiously, his eye creaked open, and his jaw dropped at the sight before him._

_There stood a girl, surrounded by an encompassing blue light. Her amber colored eyes were lit with a reassuring feeling, and her mouth held the tinniest smile. The horrible backdrop of the desert had faded, replaced with a tranquil depiction of the night with a full moon glowing in the inky sky. Her hand was reaching out for his, and the boy realized that he could move his arms freely now. Hesitantly, he reached for the hand, but the moment he was about to make contact, the girl vanished into the darkness, and he was left alone._

_And all he could remember was the glowing moon around her neck._

Twiggy bolted straight out of his bed, panting slightly as his mud-colored eyes darted frantically about his shoddy two-room apartment in almost paranoia. As soon as realization settled upon him, he sighed heavily and cradled his head in his hands.

It had been not quite a nightmare, but not exactly a dream, and he wondered briefly if that accident had caused more damage to his head than he had previously thought. His dream, message, memory, whatever it was, was the only thing he recollected from the day. The doctors had told him that he had been in a severe coma; one they had been positive he wouldn't have ever woken up from. He had simply demanded to get the hell out of the hospital, and they had let him, the doctors assured he didn't comprehend the miracle that had just occurred.

But he had. He understood that right now he should be either dead or a permanent vegetable, not conscious and certainly not awake and aware of his surroundings. It scared the hell out of him, quite frankly. He didn't believe in God, so some sort of spiritual awakening or pinnacle of enlightenment was out of the question, but still, he had experienced an out-of-the-body moment, and that knowledge couldn't stop his hands from shaking.

Sluggishly, Twiggy pushed himself out of bed and trudged across his rat-infested apartment to the dirty kitchen, where he turned on the faucet and waited for the brown water running out of it to fade before he filled himself a glass.

That girl. The one in his dream, she was the one who had brought him back. He was convinced of it, yet he didn't remember anything about her except her eyes and necklace. Briefly, he noted mentally that the necklace seemed awfully familiar…

Shaking his head as he chugged down the water, grimacing slightly at its metallic taste, Twiggy tried to clear his thoughts desperately as he tried to recollect his day, dispel that stupid vision of his, and get some goddamn sleep before he had to start his graveyard shift at the gas station.

All he could remember was driving his car…somewhere…as Imy across from him, being her usual bitchy but loveable self, Riley in the back, sitting somberly and playing with the frayed hole at the knee of her jeans. A flash of light, and then that cold, dead place.

That cold, dead place and then the girl who was almost angelic.

No, angelic wasn't the right word.

More like God-like.

A Goddess, yeah, that fit.

Twiggy scratched at the stubble forming on his chin as his eyes lazily crossed the room for him, before resting on the red, angry, digital numbers on his clock. His eyes widened, it was approximately one in the morning. He would be late for work. Being late equaled pissy boss, pissy boss equaled a higher chance of being fired, being fired meant no more rent for this glorious apartment as his parents were long dead and his friends had long since learned not to lend him money.

Swearing as he scurried around the room for the greasy overcoat that was his uniform, Twiggy pulled his dreadlocks hastily into a ponytail as he slammed the door to his apartment and began his walk towards the station.

Beginning to jog down the street, then cutting across the parking lot, as his gaze constantly flickered to his watch with the shattered lens, Twiggy didn't notice the bodies lying on the ground until he actually tripped over one.

"Shit!" He cried out in alarm as he toppled over the object in his path, his face connecting with the concrete as he came to a brutal halt.

Disoriented, Twiggy slowly stood up, rubbing his injured face as he attempted to comprehend what had just happened. "The hell-?" He muttered, before his eyes registered what he had tripped over and his jaw dropped.

It had been a man, who looked a little older than himself that he had tripped over. The stiff was dressed in an expensive looking all black suit and his limbs were spread at awkward angles. Upon closer inspection, Twiggy noticed that his face was screwed into a horrible grimace, his eyes staring and unblinking.

Hesitantly, Twiggy placed two fingers over where he suspected the man's jugular to be and shuddered when he discovered that there was no pulse. Backing up slowly and away, he froze when the back of his heel connected with something solid. Turning cautiously around, he saw two girls collapsed on the ground.

His eyes widened when he first registered the blonde as Imy and Riley's incredibly hot friend Tessa that he had met a month ago at one of the The Discards' shows. His heart sped up and gradually calmed when he realized that she was still breathing. Content that she was alive and simply unconscious, Twiggy let his eyes drift to the other body and he felt his entire being go still.

It was her.

The girl from his dream, he knew it. It was more of a feeling of recognition rather than a recognition of features as he felt himself drawn to her. Carefully, he lifted up her eyelids and wasn't surprised to see the amber color of them reflected in the streetlights. This, this had been the girl that had saved him from the cold, dead place. He knew it in his gut.

His eyes trailed down to her neck, where the moon pendant was slowly shifting colors. The rise and fall of the girl's chest told him that she was alive and kicking. And he exhaled slowly in relief.

Something glinted in his peripheral vision, and he turned his head to see that Tessa also wore the moon necklace that shined in the darkness. His eyebrows drew together, but for the moment he didn't want to question it.

Normally, Twiggy would simply stalk off, knowing that this rather odd discovery and situation was none of his business, he took a certain pride in refraining from sticking his nose where it didn't belong. But the dream haunted him, and he once again looked at the unconscious girl at his feet and something in his resolve to carry on faltered.

This girl had saved him from the dark place.

It was only logical that he should return the favor.

Groaning at himself for his, in his mentality, stupid actions, Twiggy began to rifle through the angel-girl's purse, looking for a cell phone with which to call the cops.

He exhaled noiselessly. He somehow knew he wasn't going to make it to work tonight.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Art's breathing was labored as he sprinted throughout the dark streets of L.A., knowing that time was running out. His arms pumped and his legs moved in a rhythm and of their own accord as his mind raced, Jimena's warning repeating like a broken record in his mind.

_Jimena's dark eyes locked onto Imy's, "Something's changed, I just had another vision and if we don't act fast, two of your friends will die."_

_That was all the incentive he and Imy needed before they looked at each other and simultaneously asked, "What do we need to do?"_

_Jimena sighed, and first turned to Imy, "I need to know how much you'd be willing to risk."_

_His girlfriend, kind of, looked at her mentor, "What do you mean?" She asked in confusion._

_"Riley has let herself fall into a terrible situation," Jimena responded, her mouth pressed into a thin line, "And if I send you to save her, there's a strong chance that you will be captured by Followers, perhaps even members of the actual Incinti."_

_Art felt terror grip his chest and he turned to the brunette, silently pleading for her to avoid even the mere possibility of capture by the Followers, but when Imy answered Jimena, it was clear and left no room for debate, "I'll do it."_

_Art could sense his heart sinking into his stomach._

_A wane smile appeared on Jimena's face, "I'm glad, because you'll need to act fast. Riley's ceremony is being held at The Dungeon, are you familiar with the location?"_

_He noticed the slightest of shivers as she grimaced and answered, "Too familiar."_

_"You need to go in there as discreetly as possible, grab Riley, and teleport as quickly as possible." Jimena grabbed her good shoulder, "You understand how necessary it is that you don't draw attention to yourself, and that you get the hell out of there without a fight?"_

_She nodded but Art knew how ill-suited the words 'discrete' and 'Imy' were for each other._

_"Go now then, it could already be too late." Jimena whispered, something along the lines of concern and regret crossing her face momentarily._

_The teleporting Goddess nodded as she began to form a circle of light at her feet that would lead her to The Dungeon, but Art grabbed her arm before she vanished, causing her to look at him. "Imy…" Art could feel the words dancing across his head, knew what he wanted to say, but lacked to courage to voice his thoughts, "Just…be careful, ok?" He muttered, feeling ashamed and stupid._

_Imy gently gripped his hand reassuringly, "I won't do anything stupid." Was all she muttered, giving him one of her award-winning smiles, before adding endearingly, "Dork."_

_Art let his hand fall and he gave out a sigh, "Geek."_

_Gordon, who had simply been standing on the sidelines, sent a look of pure bafflement to the pair, before snorting out a traditional, "Kids." remark._

_And with that, Imy was gone._

_There was silence as Art just stood there, his eyes trained to the spot on the floor that Imy had vanished into._

_"Art." Jimena prompted._

_He sluggishly looked at her, "Yes, Ma'am?"_

_Gordon snorted and she looked uncomfortable, "There's no need for formalities."_

_Art shook his head in obvious disagreement, "I know who you are, _Magna Mater_."_

_Jimena cleared her throat before returning to the business at hand, "What I'm going to say next is going to hurt, Art."_

_That had his full attention as his head snapped up to stare at her expectantly._

_"You're going to loose someone very important to you tonight," Was all she said, her voice for once lacking its rough quality to be replaced with a comforting tone, "However, if you don't act fast enough, you're going to loose two."_

_He paled and his eyes quickly returned to the spot of Imy's disappearance, "Imy-"_

_"No. Not Imy." She responded curtly._

_A sense of dread filled him as he thought of the only other two important people in his life, "Who?" He said, his voice almost at a breaking point._

_Jimena stood at a loss, not knowing if it would be right to tell him the honest answer. But one look at his shaking frame and she automatically decided that she could not in good conscience lie to him, "Trysten." She spoke deathly quiet._

_The man, more like a boy, nodded somberly as he chewed his lower lip, and tensed as if he wanted to hit something but said nothing. Jimena silently applauded him for his silent showing of strength, for a moment he reminded her of her self after she had first heard of Veto's death. It was painful, and hurt like hell, but it was necessary to temporarily ignore the grief if they were going to survive._

_"What about Lance?" He questioned pathetically._

_She exhaled as she attempted to order her thoughts, "My vision was chaotic and disordered, but from what I gathered, he didn't have much time." She paused, the visions of a figure in black on the ground and grasping for life flooding through her, "He's under some type of telepathic attack, if he doesn't get relief soon he's going to die." She paused and stared at Art, "Do you have any sort of mental powers?"_

_He squeezed his eyes shut, "Minimal. I don't have near the strength to fight off an attack that Lance can't even defeat." He sneered, "_Servi _were trained for little else but labor and servitude. My former master granted me a tiny bit of a Follower's powers for the sole purpose of his amusement. You can assume why I haven't been so keen on practicing them."_

_A warm hand enclosing on his wrist made him look up, where he was met with Jimena's determined gaze, "Art, you can be strong," She stated firmly, "You will be strong for Lance, the other option is too terrible to consider." She paused, "And you're not alone. Selene watches over all of her Daughters, and those important to them. She will guide you and give you enough strength to save your friend. But, you have to let her." Silence filled the room, "Can you do that, Art? Can you humble yourself?"_

_His answer was instantaneous._

_"I'd do anything for my brothers."_

The exertion was beginning to wear him down as he struggled to keep up his pace, knowing that every second he wasted was a second Lance was closer to death. Heaving and feeling like he was about to vomit, he pushed himself to the verge of his stamina, carefully following the mental signature that Lance was broadcasting throughout the night.

It was growing closer, and Art could only pray that he wasn't too late.

Turning abruptly around a corner and down a dark alley, he stopped dead when he noticed a black figure collapsed on the ground. Disregarding his earlier shock, he sprinted towards it.

Carefully, he knelt down beside the body, gently rolling him over to lie on his back and he exhaled in relief when he saw that it was Lance, with a pulse. His skin was clammy to the touch and deathly pale, his normally intimidating and lively eyes glazed over and numbly staring into the night sky.

"Shit," Art swore, fear for Lance choking him up, "It's alright, Lance, I'm going to help." He said shakily, then cleared his throat to sound more convincing, "I'm going to help."

He could see something flicker across Lance's eyes for a moment and he tried to give a reassuring smile, knowing that Lance could still process his surroundings.

"Okay," He muttered, pressing his fingers on Lance's temples and slowly closing his eyes, evening out his breath. With the little ability of telepathy he had at his bestowal, he searched and located the attack upon Lance's psyche.

_/It's some type of barricade, it's freezing my central nervous system./_ Came the ever-collected voice, or thought rather, from Lance _/I've managed to stall its progression, to keep my major organs functioning, but I can't hold out much longer/_ He sounded drained and ready to cave any moment.

Art nodded in response as he located the weak spot of the hold over Lance _/Keep protecting your heart and lungs, I'm going to try to break this thing/_ He replied determinedly.

_/Comment (2)?_ _I mean no disrespect, Art, but your telepathy-/_

_/Is pathetic, I know. But I have help./_

Art cleared his throat and recited the words that Jimena had instructed him to say in order to invoke Selene's aide, _"Coniunctis_ _Viribus (3), Coniunctis Viribus, Coniunctis Viribus,"_ He repeated like a mantra over and over again. Sweat began to bead down his forehead and his breathing increased rapidly as he began to practically plead the phrase out, _"Coniunctis Viribus!"_

Still, nothing happened and he began to fear for the worst.

_"CONIUNCTIS VIRIBUS!"_ Art shouted to the night sky, gazing at the sliver of moon that hung in the sky that seemed to almost be mocking him.

"What are you yelling at?" Came a smooth, female voice from behind.

Art's head snapped around and his eyes landed on a girl that looked to be around seventeen. Her skin was pale and milky in the moon's light, her eyes glowed sapphire in the darkness. Her hair, however, was her most recognizable feature as it was as white as snow and cropped jaggedly around her chin.

"Who are you?" Art asked.

The girl looked at him, and then at the figure on the ground, "I'm-" She paused, "I'm just here to help." She muttered flatly, running a hand through her hair.

Art scrutinized her closely, trying to determine whether or not her sincerity was false, the briefest flash of a damning color across her retina immediately decided his judgment, "You're a Follower." He mumbled darkly, and his eyes widened, "Did you do this to him!" He demanded angrily.

She put up her hands defensively, "I swear, I'm just here to help! When I woke up and Isaac told me what he did…" Her voice trailed off as she stared at Lance's fallen form, "I just couldn't leave him dying like that in the dark." She whispered, more to her herself.

Bitterness swelled within Art when he stared at the Follower girl, his thoughts flashing to the already doomed Trysten and a sour taste acquired in his mouth, "I don't want your help." He spat, resuming his attentions on the dying former Immortal.

Fury overcame the girl, "Look, I'm the only one who can save him," She stated, "I know this technique like the back of my hand, hell I invented it." Her tone was harsh, "You don't have the power alone to save him, but I do! Forget your pride and let me undo the stupid attack!" She hissed, stomping her stilettoed heel on the ground for emphasis.

Jimena's words flowed through him once again, and Art sighed as he looked at his rapidly fading breath. The choking sensation reached him again, Lance was the only family he had left anymore, and he didn't have the power to bring him back from the brink of death.

But this strange girl did.

And he'd be damned if he failed another one of his brothers.

"Alright," Art muttered, relinquishing Lance's life to the girl with the strange hair, "But if you kill him, _I _will kill _you_, Atrox powers be damned."

She nodded grimly, and began her work, pressing her hand against Lance's chest, and effectively draining the freezing assault away from him.

The results were immediate. Lance's eyes shuddered shut and then abruptly snapped open, his back arching as he let out a spasm of what seemed to be a series of violent coughs and hacks. He suddenly collapsed on the ground, his breathing deep, and even.

Art looked at the strange girl meaningfully.

"He'll be fine, he's just resting." She spoke softly.

He nodded as he allowed himself to breath again, staring at Lance and once again taking his pulse, which was sure enough strong and steady.

"Thank you." He whispered desperately, turning his gaze back to the unlikely savoir.

But she had already vanished into the night.

Art sighed, and turned to the unconscious brunette, "Lance, let's go home." He muttered.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Gordon paced furiously across his surprisingly organized office, pausing occasionally to look out of the window at the moon. Clenching his hands around a piece of paper in his grip, he clenched his teeth and swore under his breath.

He had been at his office for about ten minutes, following Jimena's instructions and demands. After the two snot-nosed kids had sprinted away to save the world from the apartment, she had turned to him and demanded that he returned to work. He had been incredulous at first, how dare she demand him anything? But the curt way she had dismissed him and the hardened look in her eye had convinced him otherwise, and he found himself begrudgedly returning to work.

And he was going insane.

The night's actions had him full of adrenaline, and despite himself, worry was growing in the pit of his guts for that handful of teenagers that were currently battling evil in the darkness of L.A. Sitting here, ignoring an increasing pile of paper work, didn't seem to even come close to measuring up to what he should be doing. He wanted to help, and instead here he was, pacing.

In a sudden bout of frustration, Gordon savagely kicked the trashcan by his foot across the room, and it collided with the opening door.

"Shit!" Came the voice behind the recently opened door, and Gordon immediately recognized its owner, a guy by the name of Mickey Ramirez, a new recruit to the force and Gordon's personal slave.

"What is it?" He growled.

Mickey stepped into his office, still a bit shaken up after the confrontation with the flying trashcan, "We just got a call," He stated, regaining his wits, "Someone's reported a stiff down at the corner of Banks and Michigan."

Gordon sighed heavily, "I'll go investigate," He muttered. He might as well, and it could get his mind off of things.

Mickey nodded, "Want me to go with you?"

Gordon shook his head, "Might as well stay here and file the paperwork. I can handle this."

Disappointment was apparent before he sighed and stated, "Sure thing, boss." Before turning back to his pathetic cubicle.

Gordon grabbed his coat and quickly went to the destination.

OoO

When he arrived at the scene, the first thing he saw was a gangly looking kid with the rattiest hair he had ever seen, nervously fidgeting. The guy had brown hair, stubble, and an aura almost similar to a heroin junkie needing his next fix.

"You the kid who made the call?" Gordon muttered, resuming the 'tough cop' role that he had perfected over the years.

The kid jerked at the sudden sound put sighed when he saw the shiny silver badge, "Yeah, that'd be me." He muttered; his voice was a deep alto.

Gordon pulled out a notebook from within his jacket, "Name and age."

"Twiggy, er Todd Towlen, and I'm eighteen."

Gordon's head jerked back at recognition of the name, "The same Todd Towlen who was in a hit and run this morning?" He inquired.

He looked taken aback but gave hesitant, "Yeah." Then added carefully, "Is there something wrong?"

Gordon just shook his head as he recalled Jimena's demands, and began to wonder if there was more to this than coincidence, "No, just a small world." He stated. He paused for a moment before he looked at 'Twiggy', "Where's the body?"

Twiggy turned his head and began to walk into a nearby parking lot, "Follow me."

Gordon followed him until he laid eyes on a man, all in black. He inhaled carefully, the corpse was fresh, "How long ago did you find him?" He asked.

"About ten minutes," Twiggy shifted from foot to foot, looking nervous, "Listen, there's something I didn't tell when I called."

His eyes narrowed, "What?"

"Well, there was these two girls that were unconscious, one of them was a girl I knew." He muttered.

Gordon stared him down, immediately on the offensive, "Where are they?"

Twiggy pointed to two park benches on the side of the building, roughly ten feet away, "I couldn't leave them on the ground." He said.

Shaking his head and biting down the lecture of how you should never move anything at a crime scene, Gordon stalked over to the pair, Twiggy following reluctantly. Two girls that he guessed to be at fifteen or sixteen were lying on the bench. One was blonde, the other a brunette. Neither he recognized.

He sighed and was about to get more information from Twiggy, when something shinning in the night caught his eye. He froze when he saw the twin moon amulets hanging around the pair's necks and he automatically knew why Jimena had sent him here. He paused and turned tentatively around to face Twiggy.

"Hey, kid," He said, "Can you keep a secret?"

Twiggy seemed to scrutinize him for a moment before hesitantly nodding.

"Good." Gordon muttered, scribbling down something on his notepad before handing it to the kid, "I want you to take these two to this address and never mention this night again, you read me?"

"What do you mean? They should probably go to a hospital!" Twiggy argued.

Gordon shook his head, "That's a much safer location than a hospital, please, just trust me on this one."

A silent battle of wills was engaged before Twiggy sneered, "Any funny business with this place and I'm calling the cops and taking them to a hospital." He stated.

Gordon snorted, "Kid, I am the cops. And believe me, it's a safe house." He paused, trying to think of something to convince the kid, when it hit him, "You know Zalank, right?"

His eyebrows furrowed, "Riley?"

"Yeah, yeah. It's her place."

Twiggy didn't seem to believe him as he scrutinized the address on the paper, his eyes widening slightly as he recognized the address, "How do you know Riley?" He questioned suspiciously.

"I don't. But her guardian and I are…" He trailed off, "Old friends."

Once again silence took over before Twiggy bit out a, "Fine." There was a pause before he asked, "Can I borrow your phone? I need a ride and I don't have a car due to the accident this morning."

Gordon studied him, "Is it someone you can trust?"

The dreadlocked teen nodded, "Yeah, known him my whole life, he won't ask questions."

He relented, tossing his phone at the boy who caught it with ease.

Moments later, Gordon saw a rusted old mini-van pull up, and the trio were loaded and off within seconds. After he saw the van disappear into the distance, Gordon pulled out his phone and dialed Jimena's number, "The two are on their way to your place," He mumbled, "You know I'm going to have a hell of a time explaining a dead Follower to the forensics department."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

A few hours later…

Jimena's apartment was quiet, tranquil despite the fact that it was currently overcrowded and the events that had occurred that night.

The first to arrive, rather abruptly, had been Riley. She had fallen, literally, out of thin air and had crashed into the floor. She had propped herself up off of the floor, registered her surroundings, and had immediately passed out, whether it was from mental strain or simple exhaustion Jimena didn't know.

About three seconds after Riley, Imy had suddenly appeared on the couch. She had given Jimena one, brief and prideful look of accomplishment before she followed her best friend into the blissful state of unconsciousness as she let sleep overtake her.

After Imy, there had been a hesitant knock on the door. She answered it to see a boy, whom she identified as Riley's friend Twiggy, and with him, were two unconscious Daughters of the Moon. As soon as Twiggy was sure that Tessa and Aria were situated comfortably in Jimena's bedroom, he had reluctantly departed, muttering something about being severely late for work.

The last to arrive had been a severely haunted Art, who had trudged in and stayed only for a few moments to ensure that both Imy and Riley were safe and away from the Followers. He had placed a kiss on Imy's forehead and a blanket over her before he left, calmly refusing Jimena's offer of staying the night due to Lance's condition back at their own apartment.

A few hours later, Riley had awakened from her self-induced slumber. She had said nothing, her gaze haunted and empty, as she walked over to Jimena, who was sitting at the kitchen table.

As if asking permission she had whispered, "Would it be okay if I cried right now?"

And Jimena remembered looking at her, for the first time, not as Riley the emotional rock, the almost cold and determined warrior of Selene, but as a little girl who had just lost one of her dearest friends. Who had lost her mother.

"You can cry all you want," Jimena responded.

As if a trigger, silent, fat tears rolled down her cheeks. Jimena, not being able to stand the fifteen year old's misery, enveloped her quickly in a hug. Riley had clenched onto her as if she were a lifeline, and the silent tears had developed into full, heart-raking sobs before she had cried herself to sleep.

It was now a few hours later, and the reddening sky that was showing outside of her window indicated that the sun was rising. Jimena watched it impassively, her hands wrapped around her almost constant coffee mug as she sipped out of it slowly.

Imy was still collapsed on the couch, her arm that wasn't in a sling hanging over the edge and the blanket twisted around her legs, indicating an uneasy sleep.

From her own room, Jimena could hear the bearish snores that must have belonged to Aria echoing, and Tessa's sleepy mumbles of protest.

No noise could be heard from Riley's room, and Jimena knew that she would be experiencing the deep sleep that only a fit of crying could bring.

She exhaled. The night had brought about a significant turn in events, one for the worse. Trysten, the Atrox's prodigal son had been turned, and implied that things were about to become difficult, and quickly. The horrors of the night were nothing compared to what this unique team would be facing, and Jimena hoped against hope that they would have the strength and resolve to meet the demons, both from the Followers and from themselves, head on.

The future would grant no reprieve for these four.

Tonight would have a lasting effect on Riley's psyche, she had been confronted rather viciously with all of her fears and doubts head on, and had lost one of her two most important people. Jimena knew first hand the guilt and self-depreciation that she would put herself through in the days, or even months or years, which followed. She had gone through the same process after they had lost Serena.

Aria, Tessa, and Imy would not remain unscathed forever either, and Jimena knew it was only a matter of time before they were each faced with the trials that Riley had faced for herself tonight.

She took another sip of coffee.

But for right now, they were all safe.

They all had their hope.

They were all still alive.

And it was the beginning of a new day.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Hope you guys liked it! Final chapter coming up!

_Next Up_: The Epilog, Riley plays for an audience of one. Also, a sneak peek at the next NC book, _Night's Children: Cetera Desunt_.

Translations:

_leve fit quod bene fertur, onus_- Latin- the burden is light which borne well, it's what 'Charlie' tells Trysten' earlier in the story

_Comment_?- French- How?

_Coniunctis Viribus_- Latin- With Combined Powers

!nym!


	23. Epilog: Music for Orpheus

_Night's Children: Nox Noctis_

**AN **OMG I'M FINALLY HERE! I thought I'd never get this done!

**Chapter Nineteen: Epilogue: Music for Orpheus**

One Month Later.

Hesitant eyes peaked around a ratted curtain as their owner quietly surveyed the scene. Throngs of people, the majority of which were teenagers, all danced to the loud, beating music that thrummed throughout the club. The place smelled like sweat, the sweltering body heat and the lack if any open windows contributing to this, but no one seemed to mind.

The first people who seemed to stick out were none other than Tessa and Aria, the former dancing wildly by herself as more than a few boys eyed her hungrily. Aria, however, was perfectly comfortable with her favorite dancing partner, none other than Turney High's number one everything Ian Saratoga.

"Big crowd tonight, huh?" Came the deep voice of the band's bassist.

Riley turned around slowly and saw Twiggy staring at the crowd, amusingly enough, Riley noticed that his eyes were trained on one particular blonde. She exhaled slowly, "Yes." She whispered.

He tore his gaze away from Tessa to send a look at Riley, "Nervous?" He asked.

Such a loaded question. "For once, no." Riley muttered.

The sound of Jake, the band's drummer, yelling Twiggy's name in irritation resulted in the end of their conversation. Twiggy rolled his eyes, "Better go see what Princess wants." He heaved exasperatedly as he stalked off.

In moments, Twiggy's space was replaced by Imy, "You sure you want to go through with this?" She asked, lowering her voice so Twiggy and Jake wouldn't overhear.

She wanted to back out, honestly she did. Crowds were fine as long as she was neither a part of them or having their attention focused on her, and tonight would definitely result in the latter. She gave a dry swallow, "It's the least I can do."

A sad smile crossed Imy's face, "I just know how much you hate crowds."

Riley tried to match Imy's smile but failed miserably, "I think…" She paused contemplatively, "I think after all that's happened, I ought to be handle awkward social situations."

Imy couldn't help the laugh that barked out of her throat.

Riley sobered instantly, "How's Art?"

Imy's laugh died immediately, "He's hurting, so is Lance." She looked at Riley, "But they're coping." There was a bitter pause, "Riley, you need to do the same."

She stiffened, but knew she couldn't argue Imy's words. Ever since that night a month ago, she had become even more reclusive than she was originally, the only people she ever spoke to were her fellow Daughters, Jimena, Gordon (who had been accepted into the 'team') and Twiggy. Even then, most of it was of necessity rather than to keep up a conversation. Trysten's Cold Fire ceremony and the events after it had still left a stinging sensation in her heart. One that was too sore to be left out in the open just yet.

Suddenly, Killian, the RockOut's stage manager appeared, "You guys are on in five." He spoke hastily before he rushed off again.

Imy inhaled deeply as Riley threw on her guitar strap, "You ready for this?"

Riley gave a barely noticeable nod.

"Alright, ladies and gents," Came Killian's booming voice from a microphone, "Tonight's a special night for all of you regulars. I'd like you to make some noise for The Discards, back from their month long hiatus!"

Riley had expected some mild clapping, maybe a cheer or two for Imy, but the cheers that greeted the band after the curtain rose made her heart stop in its chest. It was then, that she began to realize with a growing anxiety, that most of the people there were here for them.

Imy shot her a questioned look, once again giving her the opportunity to bail out, but Riley shook her head.

Her eyes once again scanned the crowd, smiling lightly at the cheering Tessa and Aria, before she felt her breath catch in her throat as they rested on him.

Tymmie, back by the bar section of the club, was sprawled lazily on a stool, his shoulders propped up on the counter. Giving her a wink and a smug smirk, he lifted a can of beer that he must have smuggled in, up to her in some sort of salute. While his posture and facial expressions seemed lax and playful, the serious look in his eyes put her on the edge.

_/I'll be seeing you soon,_ Lecta He purred across her thoughts.

She sighed, in an attempt to calm herself and put her attention on Imy, who was now speaking into the microphone.

"'Sup?" She began brightly, a large response from the crowd followed, and she laughed a bit before clearing her throat, "Tonight, our guitarist, Riley for those of you who don't know-" Cheers met her name and she felt her face contort in surprise, "Is going to be playing a guitar piece that was written for a great friend of ours." Silence fell in the crowd as they listened, "He meant a lot to us, and Riley felt it appropriate that she play this for him tonight."

The quiet continued as Riley slowly approached the spot where Imy had been standing, a solitary spotlight shining down on her. Several pairs of eyes were watching her expectantly, and for the briefest of moments, she felt herself freeze. Anxiety welled in her chest and she wanted nothing more than to bolt, terrified of all the attention on her.

But…she stopped.

Inhaling deeply, she reminded herself why she was up there tonight. To pay tribute to Trysten, to hopefully show that his sacrifice for her had not been in vain. She was going to live, without regrets and without fear, the way Trysten himself would have wanted to.

It was the one thing she could do for him.

Opening her empathetic abilities to receive the positive emotions from the crowd, Riley did the one thing she had been waiting for.

Riley played.

As her fingers strummed along the frets, her thumb and forefinger clenching the pick like it was a lifeline, she poured everything she had into her song. Everything came out of her that moment, the regret, the guilt, the love, the hate, and the sadness as her guitar seemed to channel it for her.

When she had finished, panting heavily and sweating, she was met with silence before the crowd had burst into applause. She lifted her tired eyes and gave a grim smile, their feelings dictating hers as she began to feel joy.

It was almost a second thought, but for some reason she felt her eyes drawn to a remote corner of the RockOut, a obscure spot that was totally shrouded in shadows. He was here, she could feel it, and her heart thrummed wildly in her chest. All the noise from the crowd seemed to drift into the background as she stared at the shadows that were beginning to take a human shape. A human shape with blue, not yellow, eyes.

But the moment was ended quickly as she heard the cymbals of Jake's drum kit clash furiously, signaling the start of their set. She abruptly turned back to the corner, and was not surprised, despite disappointed, to see that the shadowed form had vanished.

She let out a breath as she began to play along with the song.

They'd see each other again.

She knew it.

And next time, there would be no holding back.

-The End.

**Ending Notes: **

**THANK YOU to all of my reviewers and readers! You've been great and thanks for sticking with me this long! You all get virtual Ramen Noodles!**

Here's some little factoids for those of you who would be interested:

**Length**: 265 pages (oy.)

**Characters/Myth:**

Riley-Eurydice

Trysten- Orpheus

Tymmie- Demi-God/ King of the Underworld

Cassandra- Queen of the Underworld

Isaac- The Snake

December, Dorian, and Isaac- The Three Headed Dog

Charlie- Charon, the Ferryman

**Characters/Music:**

Sometimes, listening to certain music gives me inspiration to write for characters, here's a basic list:

Riley: Leaves' Eyes, Depeche Mode, Bauhaus

Trysten: A Perfect Circle, Tiger Army, sometimes AFI

Tymmie: In Flames, Cradle of Filth, Bleeding Through

Imy: Garbage, Save Ferris, Tsunami Bomb

Aria: Shakira. I do not know why

Tessa: any kind of techno/electronica or dance. Normally VNV Nation or maybe Underworld.

Zahi: Kyo

Art: pop/rock like SKSK or Armor for Sleep

And now, what you've all been waiting for:

**PREVIEW OF BOOK THREE: CETERA DESUNT**

What was happening?

"_Mater Luna?"_ She questioned, knowing only she had this sort of power.

A strange sound that resembled laughter filtered through the once morose surrounding. And Aria turned around to see a beautiful woman, clad entirely in white and walking towards her.

"Not exactly." Was all she said, her voice deep and melodious.

"Did you, did you do this?" Aria asked in wonderment, remarking about the freeze in time.

The ethereal figure nodded, "But it is only temporary. If I had not stepped in, this entire generation of Daughters would have been lost." She lowered her gaze almost shamefully, "It was the least I could do."

"Why?"

Her face turned grave, "I did it so you could heal your wounds and charge your power. This man," She gestured to the immobile Follower, "Is ten times stronger than any Daughter could hope to be." Her gaze darkened, "Fighting him will bring serious repercussions to you."

Aria gaped, "Why just me? I haven't even touched him yet!"

She shook her head, sending golden curls everywhere, "You are the only one who can destroy him."

"I don't understand." She muttered.

"And you won't." The woman agreed, "Not yet." She paused, "You will have to face several trials, before you can even hope to understand. You are blocking yourself from your destiny, Aria, hesitating before taking the final jump into acceptance." She lowered her head, "In the end, if you continue in your uncertainty, you will bring about the demise of the fellow Daughters."

Aria winced, "Why are you telling me this?"

The lady sighed, "You will not remember this conversation. Not until we meet again. It is better that way."

Her eyes widened, "How is that better?"

"Because there are things that someone can only discover for themselves." She replied smoothly, "You will either commit yourself to Selene like the others, or you will not. No one can force you down your path, it must be walked alone. You need to heal the inner doubt inside of you Aria, much like you heal the evil pains within others."

"But-" Aria stopped as she saw the moonlight beginning to recede, and the passage of time reviving.

The lady's eyes widened in fear, "I have stayed too long already." She whispered, and she seemed to think for a moment, considering something, "I will leave you a few words to remember, words that will helpfully keep you safe during your decision."

The darkness had spread, and the Follower was beginning to blink slowly.

"_Aut disce aut discede, aude sapere,_" She warned softly, "_Either learn or leave, but dare to know."_

And that was all Aria heard before everything vanished in a flash of searing light.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

See you all in Book 3!

!nym!


End file.
